Last Chance
by swervin35
Summary: From two different walks of life, or so it seems, they find the love in each other. Complete summary on first chapter
1. A Chanced Meeting

**Last Chance**

_All human actions have one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsions, habit, reason, passion, desire. _

_Aristotle _

**Summary: **

Billionaire Edward Cullen has a chance meeting with a beautiful and enchanting young woman. Before he can get her name, she flees Driftwood Bar.

Isabella Swan needs help and has been frequenting Driftwood Bar in hopes of finding someone to help her escape her captor. She meets a mysterious man who offers to help her before even hearing her story.

From two different walks of life, or so it seems, they find the love in each other.

**Chapter 1—A Chanced Meeting**

_There are chance meetings with strangers that interest us from the first moment, before a word is spoken._

_Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment_

_**Edward's POV**_

I hated coming to Driftwood Bar, but Emmett insisted I meet him for drinks since it was his birthday. And who was I to argue; it was his day. However, each time I came to the bar, I was hit on by at least three women, excluding the waitresses, and slipped countless phone numbers. I shook my head as exactly that happened—a number written on the napkin of the beer that was sent over to me—as I looked at my watch. Once the waitress was gone, I pushed the drink and phone number away. I didn't want it.

As usual, Emmett was running late, and that left me people watching. There weren't many patrons at this hour, for which I was grateful. In an hour, the place would be bustling with people drinking, dancing, and just being rowdy. I leaned back, sipping my glass of white wine, letting my gaze wander. My sight fell on a blonde tramp with a smoking cigarette in her hand. She was talking up a well-dressed businessman who seemed oblivious to her game—not that I had personal knowledge of the game. I'd just witnessed it so many times and recognized the signs—the way she brushed his thigh with her free hand, laughing at whatever he was saying—she was trying to get him in bed, nothing more. I idly wondered if she would snag her mark. I wasn't going to find out; a noise from the entrance had me turning my attention to it. The bouncer was throwing a teenager out; Jasper, who was the bartender and my brother—probably carded the poor kid, and Rosalie had a strict policy on serving minors: if you did it, you'd get fired. I'd lost count of the number of employees she fired for giving a drink to a minor.

I was starting to shift my gaze back to the bimbo and businessman when _she_ walked in. I didn't know who she was, but my heart stopped the second my eyes landed on her. She was beautiful, and her gaze shifted my direction briefly as she continued to the bar. I was staring right at her, but it was like she didn't even see me.

My eyes stayed on her and Jasper soon approached, taking her order. I was immediately jealous of him. It was irrational, my jealousy, but for some inexplicable reason I wished it was me instead of him, my own brother, serving her. Jasper produced whatever she had asked for fast, not even carding her. _Interesting!_ He wouldn't risk our sister's wrath, so I hoped it was water or soda.

Turning, she took a sip of the clear liquid as she leaned back against the counter and carefully looked around the bar again. I saw a flash of fear before it was gone, being replaced with relief. _Was she in some sort of trouble?_ She was sure trouble—_trouble_ for me. I didn't date much, and those I did take out wanted one thing: my money. I hated it and, as a result, I didn't approach, much less stare so blatantly at any female. Despite my reservations, I couldn't take my eyes off her and felt drawn to her as I had never been to a woman. I had to figure out what was luring me to move toward her, but I stayed where I was and continued to watch her. _Angelic_—the word came unbidden to my mind as I studied her face, oval and symmetrical, and a danger to any man. _Crap, she's spotted me._ Not caring, I met her eyes.

An enchanting blush stole across her porcelain skin, and her cute nose wrinkled in confusion when she glanced behind her and then back at me, a perfectly arched eyebrow raised in question.

I smiled. _Yes, beautiful, I'm looking at you._ With a boost of confidence, I was on my feet and walking toward her before I had even comprehended it.

"Edward, where are you going?" Emmett questioned as he sat at the table I was vacating, having finally arrived.

Ignoring him, I wove my way through the growing crowd and brushed off the hands of women who knew me. I kept eye contact with the enchantress. Her eyes widened as comprehension lit them, and her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. Apprehension began to appear, and she looked like a doe ready to bolt. I couldn't have that—I had to get her to relax.

"Hey, Jazz," I shouted when I was standing next to her. Noticing the cherry stem next to her glass, i leaned over the counter to grab a couple cherries for myself. As I bit into the sweet fruit, I watched the apprehension melt off of her face.

"Howdy, Edward, what can I get you?"

"Water, no ice, and shaken …"

"Not stirred," a timid and distinctly female voice said from beside me before a delightful giggle resounded from the same direction.

"… With a lime," I completed. I turned my head and winked.

She blushed again, averting her eyes to study the floor.

"None of that," I whispered, leaning close to her and reaching out to lift her chin so her eyes would meet mine. The boldness of the action was out of character for me, and the moment my fingertips touched her, a tingle reverberated up them and straight to my heart. A gasp slipped through my lips, but my hand remained frozen where I touched her.

Her eyes registered shock when they were once again connected with mine. I wondered what was going through her mind. And there was something in the way her coffee-colored eyes bored into mine; they were calling to me. I had no idea why I did it, but I closed the short distance and brushed my lips across hers.

"Get away from me," she pleaded against my lips, "before we get hurt."

I drew back and stepped away, putting more distance between us, looking at her. Confused I asked. "What do you mean? Are you in trouble? If you are, I'll help you."

Her eyes went wide again as she peered over my shoulder, and when she spoke, her voice was lower than a whisper.

I didn't hear her over the din of patrons filling the bar to near capacity. If it weren't for her shaking head, I wouldn't have known she was turning down my offer.

Her physical reaction to my offer said otherwise. Momentary relief—like I had answered a pray—washed over her features before she stepped further away from me. Turning on her heel, she ran. Her cocktail and purse forgotten on the counter.

_Her purse_. I picked it up and stuffed it under my arm. I didn't even think about using my special abilities to track the mysterious young woman; I just gave chase. My head whipped left and right as I searched for her. When I'd reached the entrance, I hadn't found her and the bouncer hadn't seen anyone exit since he'd thrown out the minor. She had to be in the bar somewhere. Slowly, I made my way back to the counter, still searching. No sign of her. It was as if she vanished into thin air. Settling myself on a barstool, I grabbed the drink Jasper held out to me.

"Did you at least get her name?" he asked in his slow southern drawl, leaning on the counter in front of me.

"No. But she left her purse." I waved it in front of his face.

"See if her ID is in it."

I sighed and tried to figure out how the godforsaken thing opened. _Where was Alice or Rosalie when I needed them?_ It took me a couple of minutes to find the catch, but I finally got it to unfasten. A folded sheet of paper tumbled to the counter along with a driver's license. _Isabella Swan of Forks, Washington_, the license read. _What was she doing in Seattle? Family vacation?_ I blanched when I calculated her age—she was _only_ nineteen. The furthest thing from my mind was what she was doing at the bar. What did enter my mind was the fact that I had briefly kissed a teenager—I was _thirteen_ years her senior and it didn't matter that I could legally do as I pleased with her. I picked up the paper and unfolded it, reading:

_Help me, please. Jacob Black is holding me captive. He's here with me tonight. I've tried to escape on several occasions, but one of his men is always with me, and they're faster than me. I tried the police, but they're no help as they don't believe me. Please don't contact them or anyone in Forks. I have no family left, thanks to Jacob._

I swallowed hard, looking up at Jasper and then back down at the message. _Jacob Black_. He was as notorious as they came these days, but nowhere close to the reputation of Al Capone. Black was small fries compared to Capone, though growing in reputation. Black ran a trafficking ring—smuggling drugs and humans into the States. Last I heard, he was doing five years for human trafficking._ How had Isabella gotten mixed up with him?_

"What is it?" Jasper asked, drawing my attention away from the brief message I was staring at in disbelief.

I couldn't find my voice, so I handed him the note. Isabella had left her purse on purpose. _Was this her way of asking for help? Or was she accepting my offer? What was the cost to her?_ Turning and looking around again, worry for her settled in me and I didn't even know her.

"Shit!"

I blinked and looked back at Jasper. He was not one to curse, and every time he did, it came as a shock.

"She's been in here several times over the last two weeks. She doesn't speak other than to order a couple of glasses of water and ask for a few cherries. She drinks them slowly and then leaves. Not to mention, she's here shortly before the rush and disappears into the crowd after, I'd say, two hours."

I glanced at my watch. It had been only twenty minutes since she walked in and she was gone.

"Who?" Emmett demanded, joining me at the bar. His brows were drawn together and his lips puckered. He was mad that I bailed on him.

Jasper looked at me. I hadn't given him a name.

"Isabella."

"The brunette you were ogling?" Emmett asked in a calm voice, the pissed-off look vanishing. He, like the rest of the family, wanted to see me find someone who made me happy.

"Yeah." I hadn't even noticed her hair color, just her and her beauty. "She needs help," I muttered softly, rubbing the back of my neck.

"It's you that needs help, man. What did you say to make her run?" Emmett asked, humor evident in his voice.

I could have any woman in this bar, but the one I showed interest in ran from me. Emmett knew this, as did Jasper.

The note passed in front of me as Jasper gave it to Emmett.

I once again couldn't find my voice at seeing the note. Her words were ringing in my ears: "Before we get hurt." She'd been worried that I would get hurt, that we both would get hurt. She'd sounded terrified as she said it. What she'd written—"He's here with me tonight"—hit me in the gut. I turned, scanning the bar for the face that had been plastered for weeks on the front page of every major newspaper across the nation.

"Hell, this is bad, Edward. You can't get involved," Emmett cried, making me turn back.

It was already too late. I was involved. I turned and faced my younger brother. Fear churned in my stomach; I was afraid for Isabella. "Em, I'm already involved. I told her I would help her before she bolted and before that note." I indicated the message he held. "I never imagined what kind of trouble she was in."

Emmett ran a hand over his face. "Hell!" His hand ran over his face again. "I've got your back. How can I help?"

I did a double-take. Emmett _wanted_ to help.

"I don't have the slightest idea. We need more information."

"Got a last name?" he asked.

"Yes." I gave him the driver's license.

"I'll run her and see what I can find. Given her age, I might not find anything."

He wrote down the information on a bar napkin before handing me her license back.

"You know, there's a chance she'll be back tomorrow," Jasper whispered, conspiratorially. "Alice will be tending the bar, maybe …"

"Oh no. We're not getting Alice involved," I hissed as my brows drew together.

Jasper held up his hands, palms facing me. "We don't have to tell her anything, and we don't have to ask for her help."

Emmett and I glared at him._ What was he trying to say?_

"Alice has a way of getting people to open up and talk," he said pointedly.

"Your point." Emmett growled, actually growled, and slammed his hands hard on the bar top, causing several glasses to rattle.

"Let Alice be herself and maybe Isabella will share her woes."

Jasper was an idiot at times, but he did have a valid point. Alice was a talker. And the only way she would shut up was if someone freely shared something with her. It was worth a shot, but I had another idea and it might stand a better chance of working.

~ L.C. ~

I was at the bar earlier than normal, which was odd for me; I never came to the bar twice in the same week. I chose to sit in a dark corner, working on my laptop, to keep anyone from approaching me. It was my hope that Isabella would arrive before the rush like Jasper said she always did.

Alice kept glancing over at me but had yet to come over. However, and much to my disappointment, the female servers approached. My laptop wasn't going to save me from them. They all wanted the same thing—a date—which wasn't going to happen.

I glanced at my watch then back at the bar, and Isabella was just sitting down. It took all my willpower not to get up, saunter over, and order a drink like I had last evening.

With a hand motion from Jasper, Alice approached Isabella and took her order. I had expected jealousy to sweep over me again at my sister assisting her, but nothing of the sort happened. Alice looked to Jasper and he nodded at whatever she asked, pointing to the box under the cash register. A glass of water was soon set in front of Isabella along with her purse and a few cherries.

I smiled when Isabella opened the clutch. Her message was no longer inside. Unbeknownst to Emmett and Jasper, I had slipped my business card inside—my message—with my personal cell phone. She left the water untouched, got up, and walked toward me. I furrowed my brow in confusion, but she didn't see me as she continued to the short hall that led to the restrooms.

My business cell rang two minutes later, flashing my personal number. She'd understood my message.

"Hello, Isabella," I answered with a smile.

"Is this Edward?" she asked in a whisper, her tone tinged with fear.

"Yes," I replied.

She sighed.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Scared. _He's_ meeting me here. I think he knows I'm trying to get away from him."

"How did you meet him?" I followed her lead by not using Black's name; there was no telling who was listening.

"Childhood friend."

My hand balled into a fist as Jasper set a glass of white wine in front of me. He eyed me curiously but said nothing as he went back to the bar.

"Your family?"

"They've been gone for three years. _He_ either put a hit on them or killed them himself. Either way, my parents are dead."

"You?" I needed to know she wasn't being abused by Black.

"Unharmed," she said with a quiver in her voice.

_Like hell! She wasn't unharmed. Physically she wasn't, that much I could tell from last night and before she went to the restroom, but emotionally_—I shook my head. There was no way.

"Isabella, do you really believe that?" I asked.

"I don't know what to believe anymore." She sniffed. "He has me terrified of my own shadow."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I wanted to kill Black. No one deserved to live in constant fear. I had to think of some way to help her and fast. Looking up, I saw Rosalie walk past me. Emmett was going to murder me, but unless another option presented itself, I'd have to take Isabella to Rosalie until closing time. I closed my laptop and slid it into the case next to me. "I want you to do something for me."

"What?" she asked, with a hint curiosity mixed in with her fear.

"When you leave the restroom—"

"How do you know where I am?" There was panic in her voice.

"I'm at the bar and have been for some time, waiting for you to make an appearance."

"I've—I've got to go," she said suddenly, ending the call.

_Shit!_ I realized my mistake right as it left my mouth. I had to act fast. Motioning to Jasper, I left my laptop bag on the table. He'd get it and secure it behind the bar. I was outside the restroom door when it opened, and Isabella stepped out.

"I'll be the first to admit that I'm an idiot," I said, reaching a hand out but not touching her.

She shrieked, jumped, and backed away from my outstretched hand, dropping the cell in the process. It crashed to the floor, pieces going every which way. The phone didn't matter; she did.

"I don't work for him," I added, my hand still out for her to take or not.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding the moment she took hold of my hand. Drawing her slowly to me, I recited a spell to conceal the both of us. I wrapped my arms around her and smelled strawberries in her hair as I hugged her closer to me. "You can trust me. I won't hurt you," I whispered against her hair.

Someone yelled in the main part of the bar. Isabella stiffened in my arms. She had no way of knowing no one could see us.

"He's here, and he's mad that I'm not _obediently _waiting for him," she whispered as she started to shake. "I can't go out there."

"Did anyone see you come back here?" There was calm in my voice, and Isabella relaxed some against me.

"No. The guy he has on me today is a little absent-minded, and once he starts drinking …" She trailed off.

I knew what she was saying. Quite a few of my associates were like that. They got scatter-brained after two or three drinks. Okay, there was no avoiding it; I needed Rosalie's help. My earlier thought about Emmett murdering me came screaming back into my mind. I chose to ignore it and swept Isabella up into my arms. I walked straight up the roped-off stairs and, after removing the concealment spell, into the owner's office, startling Rosalie.

"Edward!" Rosalie screamed. "So help me, if you're about to kick me out of my office so you can—"

"I need your help," I said, cutting her off. I cradled Isabella closer to me. "This is Isabella. She's in trouble. One of your patrons was harassing her. I found her in tears in the hall." It was a lie but far better than telling Rosalie the real reason I'd brought the girl to her office.

"Oh, sweetie," Rosalie cried when I sat down on the plush leather couch. Isabella had left my embrace the moment I sat and was sitting next to me. "Did the person hit you?"

Rosalie sat on Isabella's other side.

"No," Isabella answered in a low voice. "He threatened to kill me."

I drew in a sharp breath at the same time Rosalie did.

"Edward, call down to the bar and see if Jasper or Alice witnessed or heard anything. If they did, call the police," she instructed as Isabella collapsed into her open arms.

"I'll go down, instead," I said, getting up. I closed the office door behind me.

Emmett was just coming up the stairs. I was _soooo_ dead. "I figured out how you can help with the Isabella situation, other than running her name," I said before he could ask me why I was coming out of his wife's office.

"And what would that be?" he asked, following me back down when I pushed past him.

"Don't kill me."

"Why … Rosalie's involved!" he roared.

"No, not in the way you're thinking. I had to do something. Isabella is with your wife." I turned, facing my younger brother who towered over me from his position on the stairs. He was slightly taller than my six feet, two inches, standing at six feet, five inches, and from the second step he was a good head taller.

Emmett descended and took purposeful toward me as I back away. "If she gets hurt, you're dead. Understand?" he asked through clenched teeth, his hands balled in tight fists.

I swallowed and nodded. If our roles were reversed, I'd be just as mad. I turned and continued on my way to the bar with Emmett following.

"Why is she with Rosie?" Emmett asked when we were at the bar.

"Jazz," I shouted, briefly ignoring the question.

"Edward, what's going on?" Alice asked, coming over when Jasper didn't. "You're never here this early, and then you disappear. Plus, I know you were here last night. What's up with you?"

"I needed to talk to Rosalie," I lied, knowing Emmett wouldn't call me out. "Now, Em and I need to talk to Jasper about something."

"Okay," Alice said, her brow furrowed and her lips turned down, a drastic contrast to her usual smiling face. "I've got the bar, Jazz. Take a break."

Jasper looked over his shoulder just as another yell came from somewhere in the crowd. "You lost her, Embry. I'm going to kill you."

A patron shouted "gun" and the bar was in chaos a second later. I dropped to the floor, like many of the patrons had done, slowly making my way around the edge of the bar.

Two shots rang out as I heard Emmett telling a dispatch operator what was going on, his shield number, and the address of the bar. "Shots fired," Emmett whispered. "Send medical and backup."

Emmett pulled his ankle-holstered gun and passed it to me, drawing his sidearm a second after I had the Glock in my hand. He popped up and shouted, "FBI! Drop the weapon."

A wild shot had Emmett ducking. "Stay here, Edward," he said before giving chase, following whoever had fired.

"Is everyone all right?" Jasper shouted from atop the counter in the eerily quiet bar.

No one answered.

"Police and medical teams are on their way. Everyone will need to stay," he continued after another moment.

I stood and looked around. Disbelief and fear were written on all the patrons' faces that I could see.

"Get Rosalie, Edward," Alice instructed.

I nodded and rushed back to her office, my task forgotten. "You're needed downstairs," I said the moment I entered. "A patron was shot."

Rosalie nodded. This wasn't her first time through a shooting. She released a trembling Isabella and walked out of the office. I trusted she'd send the cops up if they needed my statement or Isabella's.

"Jacob?" Isabella questioned the moment I sat next to her again.

"I can't be sure, but I think so. Does the name Embry mean anything to you?"

She nodded, bringing her knees up to her chest, hugging them. "I liked when he was assigned to escort me places." She wiped at her face. "Embry was nice and let me go off on my own, though I knew he still followed me. He was trying to help me get away," she said in a rush.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, barely registering the fact that she flinched at the contact. I didn't know what to say that would comfort her. We sat in silence for nearly a half hour before a knock came at the door and Rosalie escorted two officers into the room. I reluctantly let go of Isabella, going to one side of the room with one officer while the other talked with Isabella.

"Were you in the bar when the shooting happened?" the officer asked.

"Yes," I answered before going over what I had seen and heard.

"What's your relationship with the young woman?" he asked, motioning to Isabella with his head.

"I met her here last night. She and I bumped into each other again tonight and got to talking," I said. It was the truth, and they didn't need to know everything. "She started crying and I brought her up here to my sister-in-law, thinking Rosie would be able to help."

"Okay. I think I have everything I need from you, Mr. Cullen. I'll be in touch if I have more questions." He handed me his card. "Don't hesitate to call if you remember anything more."

I nodded as the officer's partner came over to speak to me. "Marie says you're a friend."

_Marie?_ My eyes went to Isabella. She was again sitting on the couch with her knees drawn to her chest. "I am."

"She's afraid to go home by herself, and we still have a lot of statements to take."

"I'll take her home. Better yet, she'll be staying with me."

The officers nodded and followed Rosalie back downstairs. Rosalie returned a couple of minutes later with two bottles of beer and a Coke.

"You don't look old enough to drink," she said, offering Isabella the Coke.

"I'm not," Isabella said with downcast eyes, accepting the offered drink. "I turned twenty today."

"Well then, happy birthday," Rosalie said, saluting Isabella with her beer.

I did the same and downed my beer fast. "We should get going," I said, kissing Rosalie's cheek. "How long will the bar remain closed?"

"At least three days, maybe longer. I'll call my insurance company tomorrow. They'll let me know when I can reopen."

"Let me know if you need any help with cleaning up."

"I will."

I offered my hand to Isabella. With a sad smile she accepted it.

Once we were in my car and driving away from the bar, Isabella spoke. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"You're coming home with me."

"I couldn't impose."

"It's not an imposition," I replied. It didn't even dawn on me that this was out of character for me. I never took a virtual stranger home for the night.

"I'll take your couch, then."

"I can't let you do that. You'll sleep in one of my guestrooms."

"A _real_ bed," she muttered in awe.

I didn't think I was meant to hear. Glancing over at Isabella, I saw there were tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"Thank you, Edward," she said in a small voice. "It's been a long time since I've slept in an actual bed."

It was a good thing we were stopped at a light. I was starting to see red again. _What had the bastard done to this sweet girl?_ "Where did you sleep?" I asked, trying to remain calm. I'd have to go for a long run once I got Isabella settled. Hopefully, Ms. Cope would stay until I returned.

"On a chair or couch, every so often in the bathtub—really anywhere I could find that was out of the way," she said with a wave of her hand, her voice devoid of any emotion, like it should have been obvious to me.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. _She slept in a goddamn bathtub!_ _What else had befallen her and for how long?_ "When was the last time you slept in an actual bed?"

I heard her swallow. "Three years," she whispered, covering her face with her hands as her shoulders started to shake.

I groaned and pulled into an empty parking lot. _What was with me and putting my foot in my mouth around her? First, by saying I had been waiting for her; and second, forgetting that her parents died three years ago._ "Come 'ere," I said after shifting the car into park.

Isabella collapsed against me, clinging to me as tears wet the front of my dress shirt.

"Like I said, I'm an idiot," I whispered against her ear. "I didn't think before I spoke. I'm sorry."

I stroked her hair and the strawberry scent I smelled earlier assaulted me. Leaning down, I inhaled. It was intoxicating the way the fragrance clung to her silky tresses.

When I pulled back and looked down, she was gazing up at me. My breath caught in my throat. Even with a tear-streaked face she was every bit the angelic beauty I thought she was the previous evening. I lowered my head, my lips grazing hers in a feather-light caress.

She shivered in my arms.

"I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," I whispered in promise.

"You can't mean that," she said, freeing herself from my hold.

I blinked. _What had I said now?_ I felt like hitting my head against the steering wheel repeatedly when I recalled what I'd said. _Did I mean it?_ "I do. I'll protect you from Jacob."

Isabella shook her head. "No. I can't let you."

"I offered you my help last night." I pointed out. "Your note said you needed help. Well, love, help found you."

"It was a mistake for me to elicit help from a stranger." There was alarm in her voice again. "What happened tonight was my fault. _He _always gets clingy when he thinks he's going to lose me."

"The shooting wasn't your fault. He _chose_ to carry a gun. He _chose_ to use it. He'll face the consequences for his decisions."

"Still, it's my fault. Had I been waiting where I should have, it would have never happened."

"You don't know that for sure," I said in a soft voice, cupping her cheek and caressing it with my thumb. "He could have found another reason to draw his gun out, and it still wouldn't have been your fault."

"You might be right, but I think you're wrong. It was my fault."

I sighed. "How about I tell you some things about me," I said, letting my hand drop from her face.

"I'd like that."

I extended my hand. It seemed a little silly to be introducing myself after I had briefly kissed her twice, but I had to start somewhere. "I'm Edward Cullen."

**A/N: Comments and reactions are most welcomed.**


	2. Kindness is Given, not Repaid

**Chapter 2—Kindness is Given, not Repaid**

_Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds._

_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Nursery Rhyme)_

**A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. This chapter picks up where Chapter 1 ended.**

_**Bella's POV**_

"_I'm Edward Cullen."_

My jaw dropped open.

I hadn't read the business card fully—only enough to ascertain his first name and phone number. A cell phone had also been inside in my handbag, and it had delivered the mysterious stranger's—well, _Edward's_ message clearly; call me. Not one to disappoint, I had made the call from the ladies' room after I had committed the number to memory and disposed of the card by tearing it up and flushing it. I had planned on telling the bartender I had found the cell in the hallway, but Edward had surprised me, instead.

What shocked me was that I knew his name, knew who he was—somewhat. My father had spoken of Cullen Enterprises and the talented young president often. I couldn't recall exactly what Cullen Enterprises did; but I was sure that, if I asked Edward, he'd tell me. I was afraid to ask, terrified about how he'd react.

I never imagined when I woke up this morning that I would be sitting in a car with Edward Cullen, billionaire extraordinaire, or that he was serious about helping me. Walking into Driftwood Bar weeks ago had seemed like a bad idea. No one had ever approached me besides the bartender—but I'd made sure of that with a simple protection spell. Plus, I was no one special … well, in an attractive way. Then last night, and in what I'd thought was my last escape attempt for a while, Edward had extended his offer of help without knowing anything about me or my situation. Then there was the fact that he'd kissed me—I didn't understand why he had, and my confusion only increased when he had kissed me again a few minutes ago.

I snapped out of my surprise and took his hand, shaking it. "Isabella Swan. I prefer Bella."

"It's nice to meet you, Bella, and happy birthday."

The way he said my name was like a caress that sent chills of delight through me. Somehow, it reminded me of the heroes I used to watch in old movies. "Thank you."

"Now, let's get back on the road," he said, winking at me.

My face heated as he settled back behind the steering wheel. He seemed so relaxed, whereas I was a nervous mess. I wasn't sure how to act. I knew I should be grateful that he was saving me, and I was, but I was scared as well.

"Since I know today is your birthday, it's only fair that you know when mine is." He paused and glanced over at me. "June 20," he announced, turning back to the road.

I studied his profile—high cheekbones, a bit scruffy, and hair in a disarrayed mess. I wished I could see his eyes—they'd tell me much about him, the man who had broken through my protection spell.

"Hmm, let's see, what else? I haven't always been a Cullen. I was born Masen. My parents died in a car crash when I was two years old. My adoptive parents tell me that I bounced from foster home to foster home for a year before being placed with them. Carlisle and Esme Cullen fell in love with me and started the adoption process."

"Adopted? I'd never heard that about you." I said in a shy voice.

"It's not something I tell everyone."

_Why was he telling me?_ I was going to ask when he started talking again.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this, but I can't seem to stop," he replied, as if he could read my mind. "I have four adoptive siblings. Jasper and Alice—while they're finishing college, they bartend at Driftwood, and they're dating—and Emmett and Rosalie—they're married. Rosalie owns the bar. Emmett's in the FBI."

"Is that even legal? I mean, for your siblings to date and marry each other." I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth.

He chuckled at my outburst; it confused me.

"Yes. They don't share a common parent and weren't raised from infancy together. Carlisle and Esme adopted Rosalie when I was eight. Emmett right before I turned ten. Last, Alice and Jasper when I was fifteen years old. It took a while for Emmett and Rosalie to hook-up, but Alice and Jasper were already dating when Carlisle and Esme adopted them."

"Are you the oldest?" My hand twitched, and the urge to cover my mouth was getting harder to resist.

"No. Rosalie is two months older. Age-wise: it's Rosalie, me, Emmett, Jasper, and Alice."

I bit my lip, trying to prevent myself from asking another question. Jacob always hated it when I did and told me if he wanted me to know something, he would tell me.

"Ask," Edward said.

"Huh," I said, turning my head to look at him.

"Whatever question that has you gnawing your lip—ask it."

_How in the world did he know?_

"Please, Bella. Ask."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

I caught the slight smile that graced his face. That smile made me brave. I smiled tentatively, and asked, "Is it really okay if I ask you questions?"

I heard the leather on the steering wheel squeak again, and I chanced a glance it. Edward's knuckles were white. _Had I made him mad?_

"Of course you can. How else are we going to get to know each other?"

"Jacob didn't like when I did."

I heard a muttered curse, but I couldn't decipher what Edward said. With my lip between my teeth, I looked up at him once more. His jaw was clenched and he was breathing hard through his nose, reminding me of a fire-breathing dragon. I took a gamble when I reached over, touching his knee. I was just beginning to pray he wouldn't yell at me for touching him when his hand covered mine. His features had relaxed.

"I'm not like him. If you have a question, ask and I'll answer—if I have an answer, that is." He laughed.

His laugh was musical and deep; I couldn't help it, I giggled. I had a wealth of questions for him and couldn't wait to get started. I decided to get the hardest one out of the way first. "Why did you …" I swallowed hard, not knowing how to ask.

"Why did I what?" He caught my eye when he glanced over at me. "Come on, you can ask. There's no such thing as a dumb question."

"I've heard that before. Though, the only dumb question is the one left unasked."

He shook his head and chuckled again. "I've not heard that. So, your question," he prodded.

"Why did you approach me last night?"

"Honestly," he started. "I don't know. The same goes for why I kissed you."

He knocked out two questions with one answer. Okay, what was the logical next question? "Why did you offer to help me?"

"The way you pleaded with me to back off. There was something in your voice and eyes that told me you were in a situation you couldn't get out of. The way you ran from me didn't help, either. Then there's the note I found when I was looking for your ID," he explained, his eyes drifting from the road to me a time or two.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. I'd forgotten about the note; I'd written it a long time ago. "Well, that certainly explains how your business card and cell got in my purse. I'm sorry I dropped your phone. You scared me."

"No worries. I was getting ready to replace it."

"I'll replace it. I'm the one who broke it."

"It was my fault you dropped it." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to turn.

I looked out the windshield, and we were blocked by a big iron gate. _Was this where he lived—a gated community?_

The cold night air wafted in through the window Edward rolled down. I shivered, rubbing my arms. The light jacket I had on was barely keeping me warm, but it was the only one I had, the only one Jacob allowed me.

"Ms. Cope, it's me. I forgot my clicker at the office again. Could you please buzz me in?"

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen."

The iron gates slowly creaked open. "I should warn you. My house is quite large."

Edward drove slowly up the long driveway, taking hold of my hand again. I blinked when the stone house and fountain came into view. It was the biggest house I'd ever been to, and I hadn't even seen the inside. I couldn't help comparing it to the home I grew up in; it would probably fit inside four or five times.

"It was styled after a French chateau," Edward said, amusement in his tone at what must have been my awed expression.

I turned and faced him.

Edward laughed, his shoulders shaking. "That's a reaction I've never gotten before. Then again, I don't bring guests here often."

I didn't know what to say to that. "So, you've never brought a girl here?"

"Before you," he stated, stroking his thumb along my palm, "only my sisters and mom."

I was suddenly frightened again. _Was he expecting me to sleep with him? To pay him for helping me in a sexual way?__?_ "Stop the car. Let me out," I said, whimpering and snatching my hand back.

He did as I asked. I was out of the car and running before he could stop me. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away from him. Batting away leaf-covered branches, I berated myself. _How could I have been so stupid? Accepting his offer. Getting into the car with him. I didn't know him. I knew better than to get into a car with a stranger, candy or no._

"Bella!" I heard Edward shout. "Isabella!"

There was crunching of gravel and a snap of a twig from behind me as he gave chase. I sped up with tears coursing down my cheeks. I stumbled when I looked behind me, seeing a beam of light getting closer by the second. I slipped on wet leaves and my arms flew out in front of me in an effort to break my fall. There was a loud pop when my hands hit the ground. I screamed as pain shot through my right hand and up my arm.

I was on my knees, cradling my right hand to my chest and still crying when a hand came down on my shoulder. I jumped and swung my head around and came eye to eye with Edward.

"Let me help you up, and then I'd like to have a look at your wrist," Edward said. He wasn't a bit winded and that puzzled me.

His arms came around me, and I tried to free myself from his hold.

"I don't want your help," I protested half-heartedly, even though I knew I'd need his help getting up.

"May I please see your hand?" he asked once I was on my feet.

He held out his hand, giving me the choice to show him or not, much like he had earlier. It was as if he knew of my phobia. I couldn't bear the thought of someone touching me, not with how I had been taken from my home three years ago.

I sighed and placed my right hand in his. He pulled the flashlight out of his pocket and held it in his mouth as he turned my hand this way and that, taking care not to cause me further discomfort. "I don't think it's broken, but I should take you to get it X-rayed. First, we'll go to the house and get some ice. In the meantime, try to keep it up above your heart."

I nodded, following him as he led the way back to his car. My shoulders slumped in defeat. Like Jacob, he'd given chase; unlike Jacob, he seemed concerned that I'd hurt myself.

"What made you run?" he asked when we were back in the car, driving further toward the house.

I asked a question instead of answering his. "What do you expect from me as payment?"

He stopped the car in front of house, shut off the ignition, and turned to look at me. "Nothing, nothing at all." His left hand came up, as if to caress my face, but he stopped himself when I cringed. "Why would you ask that?"

I didn't answer, nor did I move away from his outstretched hand.

"Anyone who makes you repay a kindness is a fool," he whispered.

I got lost in his green eyes a moment before he turned away. My mind was whirling, trying to picture the Wiccan color magic chart that had hung in my childhood bedroom, and searching for the color's meaning—safety. There was little doubt in the meaning. I would be safe with him, and from his actions so far, I felt I could trust him.

Edward got out of the car and came around, helping me out.

"Thanks," I said with a blush when his hand moved to the small of my back.

A large, red-haired woman wearing glasses opened the front door. "Good evening, Mr. Cullen," she greeted. Her small eyes moved to me. Her mouth made an 'O' of surprise as she took me in before returning her gaze to Edward, eyebrow raised in question.

"Ms. Cope, allow me to introduce Bella Swan. Bella, this is my housekeeper Ms. Cope."

"It's nice to meet you," I said in a shaking, pain-filled voice. My wrist was throbbing, and I could barely keep it up.

"Oh my! Edward, she's hurt. Go fetch some ice and aspirin."

I swayed when Edward stepped away from me. _Oh, no. Not again._ The room spun once as everything went dark.

~ L.C. ~

I moaned and rolled onto my side, slowly opening my eyes. Soft light illuminated a corner, and I saw someone sleeping in a chair with their feet propped up on an ottoman. A book was lying open and was moving up and down on the chair's occupant's chest as they breathed. From my position on the bed—

_Bed?_

Jacob was going to kill me. That was his only rule. I was never to sleep in his bed, and his was the only bed. I could sleep anywhere else, but never in his bed. I scrambled off it, stumbling and falling to the floor with a loud cry.

I heard a thump that could only be the book. I looked over to see whoever was guarding me get up from the chair. My heart beat wildly in my chest. _I had to get out of here_, I thought, crawling as fast as I could to get away. My injured arm made my movements awkward and not as quick as I would've liked.

"Bella! Stop before you injure yourself further." There was authority and concern in the voice.

I froze. That wasn't Jacob's voice, but it was a voice I was vaguely familiar with. _Where was I?_ I searched my memory, replaying the last hours.

I sobbed in relief.

Edward.

I was safe.

Edward kneeled beside me. "Let's get you back in bed. I'm sure you shouldn't be out of it, not with how you fainted."

I gave him a brief smile as he scooped me up into his arms. "Put me down," I protested, albeit weakly. I didn't mind being in his arms.

"Sorry, love, that's not going to happen. My father will be here first thing in the morning."

I stiffened in his arms.

"Relax. He's a doctor, and he'll take good care of you."

I didn't relax. If anything I started to panic as Edward placed me on the bed. Doctors couldn't be trusted. They were deceitful and liked to hurt me, especially in the past three years. _Edward wasn't Jacob_, I reminded myself. He'd shown me nothing but kindness and wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Still, I couldn't let myself trust that his dad would be any different from the last doctor Jacob had taken me to see.

I stilled and heard a muffled one-sided conversation as Edward rubbed … my back? Realization dawned on me slowly—I was cradled against his chest.

"… don't know what to do … Apparently, she's scared of something, Dad."

I went rigid against Edward. His dad. The doctor. _Was he here and just not responding?_

"Okay, I'll try that. See you in the morning," he said.

Edward didn't say anything for a long time. He seemed content to just hold me. His gentle caress on my back was enough to lull me to sleep, almost. I did start to relax little by little.

"Bella," he whispered.

"Hmm."

"What are you scared of?" he asked softly.

"I don't trust doctors," I whispered.

"That's understandable," he said with a chuckle. "I don't trust dentists, but I still go."

I pulled back and regarded him. "What's wrong with dentists?"

"Rizzz, rizzz, rizz," he said, moving closer to me with a crooked index finger, imitating a dentist's drill.

A giggle erupted out of me. His hand cupped my cheek as I smiled at him.

"What's wrong with doctors?" he asked, as his thumb ran over the apple of my cheek.

I swallowed hard and tried to turn away from his intense green eyes, but his hand prevented me. "The last doctor caused me more pain than I was in," I mumbled.

"My father, Carlisle, isn't like that. He hates to see anyone in pain and tries to be as gentle as possible. He'll only cause a little pain to make a diagnosis." He motioned to my wrapped wrist.

I hadn't noticed it was bandaged and, at the moment, didn't hurt.

"Are you feeling any pain?" he asked.

I shook my head. "How?"

"Ms. Cope," he said as if that was all the explanation I needed.

I raised my eyebrow.

"Sorry. I forgot you don't know her. She was a nurse before she retired and became my housekeeper. She retrieved an anti-inflammatory cream I didn't know I had. Between rubbing that on your wrist, the bandage, and ice, she worked wonders," he said with a shrug.

I nodded. It was a foregone conclusion. The little treatment I had been given was enough to manage the pain.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said suddenly. "She told me to give you a couple of aspirin when you woke. In all the hubbub, I forgot." He picked up a small white cup from the nightstand and handed it to me. "I'll go get you some water to wash those down with."

While he was gone, I took in the room. It had a vintage feel to it, painted in a neutral color—a rich brown—and accented with lighter grays, golden tans, and creams. It was very inviting and masculine. A few large pictures hung on the walls. I was particularly taken with a framed old key on burlap, but it wasn't the key that caught my eye, it was the frame. The frame was dark grey and had spots where the original wood showed through.

My gaze swept over the other frames to the sitting area. A warm brown and tan wingback chair sat behind a matching ottoman. There was a cream blanket thrown haphazardly across it. The book that had been on Edward's chest before he awoke was steepled on the floor next to the chair. I tilted my head and could just make out the title, _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.

_Was Edward an avid reader?_

"Do you like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?" Edward asked, making me jump with a little "Eep!"

I hadn't heard him return. "I've read one of his novels. _The Hound of the Baskervilles_," I replied, accepting the open bottle of water. I quickly downed the two round pills.

"One of my favorites," he remarked, bending to pick up the book. "It's not in this compilation. This contains all his short stories." Edward settled on the ottoman, facing me while leaning back to place the book on the small table next to the chair. "Do you have a favorite author?"

"Not one in particular. I'm partial to Bronte, Austen, and Alcott."

"All great writers, and they're all part of my library."

I felt a smile spread across my face. I was sure there was a light in my eyes that hadn't been present for a long time. My fingers would soon be touching books, and not just any books, classics.

"I take it you like to read," Edward observed with a laugh.

"Yes. I wanted to study English literature, but that's looking less likely."

"Why?"

"I'm sure the university won't honor my scholarship," I said sadly.

"Which university?" he asked, leaning forward.

I stared at him. "Why do you want to know?" I countered.

"Call it curiosity."

"You do know that curiosity killed the cat," I remarked, playfully. If he really wanted to know, I would tell him.

The smile that graced his face reached his eyes, and they sparkled with his amusement. "I don't think asking can get me into trouble."

My mouth fell open. I was surprised, truly surprised. "No, it can't," I answered. I took a deep breath and exhaled. "The University of Oxford."

It was his turn to gape at me. "You got a scholarship to Oxford in England."

"Yes. Is it so hard to believe?"

"No, but it is hard to get into the university, let alone receive a scholarship."

"It wasn't that hard. Not for me," I said, slightly embarrassed. I was about to share with a virtual strange something that I'd told no one, not even my best friend—well, if I could still call Angela that.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"Let me ask you this first. Why don't you tell everyone your true family name?"

"Well," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't want others to believe that my success was based on who my parents were. I got where I am today by my own merits, adding to the wealth they left me."

I smiled. This was going to be easier to tell Edward than if I were telling any of my former friends. I felt that I could definitely trust him. Heck, he might even know someone in the clan. "Okay, then. You'll understand, I think." I paused and blew out a breath. "I was born in Crail, Scotland."

Edward furrowed his brow, his eyes pinching together. "Crail, I know the name but I'm not placing it. What's near it?"

"Crail is in Fife. St. Andrews is the nearest neighbor."

"Fife, Fife," Edward said, scratching his head. "On the North Sea?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, I still can't place Crail. Doesn't matter, go on."

I bit my lip in thought, trying to decide how to proceed. "I lived at McCullough Castle until I was five. From there, my parents and I moved to the States, well, Forks, Washington, to be exact."

Again, Edward's face didn't register any recognition. "Were your parents servants?"

I grinned at the reasonable question. "No. I'm the granddaughter of Malcolm McCullough."

My announcement got a reaction from him. His eyes went wide before closing as his hands buried themselves in his hair. "Holy hell!" he said.

"You know the name," I stated.

"Yes. More importantly, I know Malcolm … personally. I haven't seen him in a couple of months, but—"

"He's alive!" I exclaimed.

Edward's eyes popped open. "Yes. He came to visit me right after his granddaughter—you—went missing."

"J-J-Jacob t-t-told me …" I buried my face in my hands. I thought my grandfather was dead, killed by Jacob or one of his men.

Edward took hold of my hands, and then I was in his arms. "Sshhh, it's going to be okay. Malcolm will be happy to see you."

I cried harder at hearing that.

When I woke again, having cried myself out against his supportive chest, he was lying on his side behind me, one arm slung over me in a protective way.

An odd sensation swept through me, and strangely, it wasn't fear. I felt safe and protected, but more importantly—I felt loved.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.**


	3. Meeting Dr and Mrs Cullen

**Chapter 3 – Meeting Dr. and Mrs. Cullen**

_There's nothing like overcoming something that scares you so much. Nothing feels better. _

_Laura Wilkinson_

**_Edward's POV_**

Isabella Swan was Malcolm McCullough's granddaughter. I still couldn't believe it. _What are the odds of me finding her in Seattle and at Rosalie's bar of all places? I hadn't a clue, but the probability had to be small._ I tightened my hold on her. She had cried herself asleep some time ago, but I was reluctant to move from her side. After laying there a few more minutes, I released her and rolled onto my back. I was just starting to get up when she turned over, her hand coming to rest on my stomach, halting my movements. I stared down at her dainty hand, thinking, _Okay, so I'm not going anywhere right now._

I continued to worry. Malcolm had been given false hope so many times. _How can I be sure that Bella didn't give me a well-rehearsed story?_ As much as I hated the prospect, I'd have to ask her questions that non-family members might not be able to answer. After picking up my phone, I searched the internet for every piece of information that had been published on Malcolm.

After hours of searching, exhaustion got the better of me and I fell asleep. The ringing of my phone woke me. I reached blindly in the direction I thought it was and came in contact with a warm—

I bolted straight up. I'd fallen asleep next to Bella.

My phone continued to ring, and I ignored it as I turned my head to take in a Bella. She had her head cocked to one side with one eyebrow raised and her lower lip between her teeth.

"Bella, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall—"

Bella's hand came up, her fingers silencing me as they came to rest on my lips. "Don't apologize. I could've woken you had I been uncomfortable at finding myself in your arms."

When my phone started ringing again, Bella motioned me to answer it.

"Bathroom?" she asked.

"Through the columns to the right," I answered, reaching for my cell. "Hello?"

I watched her closely as she disappeared. Nothing seemed amiss with her behavior, but I had just met her, and the little knowledge I had wasn't enough for me to tell if she was really okay with finding me asleep beside her.

"Why didn't you answer?" Emmett asked.

"Well," I started, running a hand down my face and slipping out of bed. _How much can I tell him?_ I moved to look out the window, and with a shake of my head, I briefed my brother on some of the events that had transpired after I left the bar with Bella, leaving out the parts where she ran from me and I fell asleep next to her.

"Don't you dare call Malcolm until you're absolutely sure." I heard typing in the background. "Mm, this is strange. I thought I'd check to see if Malcolm reported a granddaughter missing. He did, but for an Isabella _McCullough_. I'll pull the physical file and see if there's any information on his granddaughter—a picture, another last name, something," Emmett said. "I did run the background check on the girl in your care."

"What did you discover?"

"Nothing about her, as far as arrests and convictions go, just like I thought. But her parents, Charlie and Renee Swan, were murdered in their sleep."

Placing my hand on the window frame, I looked down. Bella had said her parents had been killed, and there was a police report to confirm she'd told me the truth, not that I really needed confirmation. But that wasn't all—the names of her parents sounded familiar. I wasn't sure how I knew them, but I did.

"The police report states that their daughter, Isabella, was not found on the premises. Close friends and teachers were questioned."

"Let me guess, they hadn't seen her."

"Yep. One friend stated she dropped her off at home a little after ten the night her parents were killed." He paused a moment. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"Jacob Black was questioned," Emmett said in outraged awe.

I clenched my teeth.

"He told the authorities he hadn't seen her for days." Emmett ground out.

"So, you believe Bella's message. That she was in Jacob's custody."

"With his rap sheet, how can I not? You have no idea the number of crimes he's gotten away with. There's never been enough evidence to pin anything on him."

I heard my bed squeak and looked over my shoulder. Bella had returned—time to switch subjects. "Did you catch the shooter?"

Emmett wasn't fazed by the sudden change. He was used to carrying on two or three conversations at once. "Fuck no. Whoever it was disappeared."

"What now?" I asked as the house phone rang. "Hold on, Em."

"I gotta go anyway. I've got a meeting. Thought I'd fill you in on what I found out. I'll call or stop by later."

"Okay." I ended the call as I moved over to the dresser and picked up the cordless. "Hello?"

"Esme and I are leaving now," Carlisle said.

"So, you'll be here in," I glanced at the clock, "twenty or so minutes."

"Sounds about right," he confirmed. "Did you find out what caused your guest to freak out?"

_How in the world am I going to let him know?_ "You," I said, hoping I wasn't being too cryptic.

"Your father?" Esme's voice was filled with questioning concern.

"Yes. Just be prepared, Carlisle. Esme, it might help if you offer to stay in the room."

"Ah, I see. Your guest is afraid of doctors," Carlisle said, catching on to what I was saying.

"Like I'm afraid of dentists," I said, leaning against the dresser and winking at Bella.

Bella's face colored a beautiful shade of pink.

"That bad, huh?"

"Maybe more so," I said. "I did say you're not like the last one she saw."

"She?"

"Uh-huh."

Esme tsked in sympathy. "Poor girl."

"Okay, we'll see you soon."

"Bye."

"Your father?" Bella guessed.

"Yes. He'll be here soon," I remarked as I dropped the phone back into its cradle. "My mom, Esme, is coming with him and would be happy to stay in the room while he examines you. That is, if you want her to."

Bella's small smile was breathtaking. It reached her eyes, lighting them up. "That would make me more comfortable. I'm still scared, though."

"You can trust both my parents."

"I-I don't know."

"I understand your fear." I blew out a breath; I hated that I had to question her. She'd been through so much, but Emmett's concern mirrored my own. I couldn't call Malcolm without some proof. "While we wait, I have a few more questions for you."

Her lip disappeared between her teeth. Internally I groaned, slightly jealous of them and wished it were my teeth pressed into her lip. _The thought surprised me. Yes, I'm attracted to her, but I've never wanted to do anything of that nature._

"Then ask," she said after a moment.

"I hate that I have to ask these questions, but I don't want to call your grandfather and then find out you're not who you say you are. He's been told one too many times that you've been found—"

"Only to have his heart broken," she said, finishing for me. "I appreciate your caution and further suggest that you tell him what you asked and my answers. Knowing my grandfather, he would want evidence."

I nodded. That was a good idea, but I didn't think it was necessary. "First question. What's his middle name?"

Every site I had navigated to before falling asleep only had his middle initial.

"Ewan," she answered. "It was his great-great-great-grandfather's name."

I stared at her. She'd gotten his middle name correct, but I hadn't known the origin of the name. I saw why she made the suggestion about telling what was asked and the response. "What's his most prized possession?"

"A jeweled Scottish dirk."

"Can you describe it?"

She nodded. "It has a metal handle woven in a Celtic knot—you can see through it. The end of the handle is capped with a blue sapphire."

"How did it come into his possession?"

Bella once again drew her lower lip into her mouth; she had a habit of doing whenever I asked her a question. I didn't think she was going to answer, but she'd given me enough to settle things in my mind. Malcolm might have more for her.

"He received it the day he married my grandmother, Annabella. She received it from her great-grandmother, Maribella. One day it will be given to me to pass on to the gentleman I marry."

Again, Bella gave me details I wasn't aware of, and only Malcolm could confirm or deny those facts.

"Any other questions?" Bella asked.

"No." Behind me, the door started to open, and I turned to see who it was.

Carlisle's head popped around the door. "Ms. Cope opened the gate for us," he said when I motioned for him to enter.

"Bella, this is my father, Carlisle, and my mother, Esme."

"Hello, dear," Esme said. "Do you mind if I sit on the bed?"

I watched Bella closely from where I still leaned against the dresser. She sat rigidly against a couple of pillows, but she wasn't trembling as she had been in the early morning hours. She did, however, nod in response to what Esme asked. Her eyes didn't stray from Carlisle.

Esme sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke Bella's arm. "My son hadn't told me he is dating anyone."

Bella's eyes flashed to mine.

_Oh, no. I'm in trouble._

"Our relationship is fairly new. We decided to keep it hush-hush until we figured things out," Bella replied with a gentle smile. "He's been very sweet and caring. You should be proud. When I injured myself last night, he wanted to take me straight to a doctor. I-I-I freaked out."

My mom was smiling proudly when she turned to look at me. "I'm glad to hear that and can't fault him for keeping you a secret," Esme said after returning her attention to Bella. "If I stay in here with you, would you let my husband check your wrist and ask you a few questions?"

Bella's lip started to quiver, and she closed her eyes, blowing out a breath that moved the hair that had fallen into her face. "If you stay … okay," Bella whispered.

Carlisle had kept his distance up to this point, allowing Esme to work her magic. "Edward, why don't you give your mother and me twenty minutes," he said.

"I have a call to make anyway," I said. I paused by the bed to give Bella a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be in the study should you need me." In a low whisper, I told Bella where the study was located.

**_Bella's POV_**

_Holy cow! Edward's parents think I am his girlfriend._ When I looked to him for assistance, he seemed as startled as me. He'd helped me so much that I felt I owed him something. Without really thinking about it, I was spinning a story that was true, although not completely.

I was a little shocked when Edward came over and kissed my cheek, but glad at the same time. "A left through the columns and out the door, then another left and you'll be in the study. Think about telling them how we actually met. It's your story to tell," he whispered in my ear.

Soon I was alone with Edward's parents. I swallowed and turned my attention to his father.

"We'll take things slowly," Carlisle said, approaching the bed with an open notebook.

Esme stood and moved around the bed to sit in the wingback chair I'd noticed earlier, folding the cream blanket.

"Full name and date of birth?" he asked.

"Isabella Marie Swan. September 13, 1993." Neither reacted to hearing the year I was born.

"Allergies?"

"None that I know of."

"Taking any medications or vitamins?"

"No."

"Do you know your height and approximate weight?"

"Five feet, four inches and about one-hundred and ten pounds."

"Last menstrual?"

Like always, I blushed at the question. "A week and a half ago."

"Are you sexually active?"

My blush deepened as I answered. "No."

"I think that's good for now," Carlisle said, placing the notebook down on the nightstand. "Normally, I'd start by taking your vitals, but I think we can skip that since I don't have a cuff or stethoscope with me."

I glared at him when he chuckled. _Is that supposed to make me feel better?_

"Can I examine your wrist?"

Like Edward had done twice last evening, Carlisle held out his hand and waited for me to place my hand in his. He was very handsome, almost like that of a Peter Facinelli. The way he smiled charmingly down at me helped me to relax.

I placed my hand in his, noticing it was shaking. I wasn't scared, a little nervous maybe. The care he took unwinding the bandage settled my nerves.

"This might hurt, and I hate that I have to cause you even momentary pain. If I knew another way to examine your wrist, I would," he said after handing Esme the bandage.

I winced with each gentle prod and twist Carlisle made to my wrist.

"Can you tell me how this injury happened?" Carlisle asked.

"I fell when Edward was chasing me," I said without thinking. "My thoughts ran away from me when—at something he said. I took it the wrong way."

"What in the world did he say that had you running?" Esme asked.

I drew in a sharp breath when realization of what I started to tell them hit me_. I can't tell them the truth, can I? I think I can. They've been nothing but kind._ "Don't get mad at Edward, but we met two nights ago at Driftwood."

"Oh!" Esme exclaimed, handing Carlisle the roll bandage.

"He thought that I was in trouble and offered to help me. I ran into one of the private rooms. I left my purse, and he opened it to see if there was any way he could return it to me. He found a note confirming his suspicions."

"What kind of trouble are you in?" Carlisle asked, kneeling next to the bed with his hand covering my re-bandaged wrist.

His concern reminded me of my father. It was genuine, not at all false like Jacob's had been. I had to turn away and bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from crying again. I missed my father so much.

"She was being held captive by Jacob Black."

My gaze snapped to the doorway. Edward was there, leaning against one of the pillars.

There was a gasp from behind me, and a glance over my shoulder Esme was again sitting on the bed with me.

"I put my cell phone and business card in her purse. Last night she called me, and I brought her here after finding out she had nowhere else to go."

"I freaked out, thinking he meant me to share his bed as payment," I said.

"I chased her after she jumped out of the car. She slipped and fell."

"I'm a klutz," I muttered.

"Everyone is when they're frightened," Edward said.

"And it's nothing more than a sprain," Carlisle said.

I didn't say anything about Edward being wrong. If I stayed with him for an extended period of time, he would learn just how often I injured myself.

"When we got here, I fainted," I stated, feeling that as long as I was in the company of a doctor, I might as well tell him about that too. "I've been blacking out quite often over the past three or so weeks."

"Edward, did she hit her head?" Carlisle asked, slipping back into doctor mode.

"No. I was only a few steps away and caught her as she went down. It helped that she cried out."

Carlisle motioned with his head toward the door.

"I'll go in a moment," Edward replied. "I have one question for Bella concerning what she and I were talking about when you arrived."

I swallowed. _What question does he have for me now?_ "Go ahead," I said, sucking my lip into my mouth.

Edward pushed off the pillar and walked over, trading places with his father before freeing my lip from its prison with his fingers.

"I really _don't_ want to ask this," he whispered.

"You have no choice."

Edward nodded and then looked to the floor. "I'm asking on behalf of your grandfather."

"He's not willing to come and see me without more proof," I guessed.

His head snapped up, and he looked directly into my eyes. It was as if he were asking how I knew. "Yes. He didn't tell me what I was to ask you, though. All he told me was that if you were who you say, you would be able offer _undeniable proof_."

_Grandfather wants undeniable proof? What can I offer him?_ I closed my eyes thinking. It had to be something that very few people knew. _What, what, what?_ An image came to mind, and I went with it, describing what I saw. "There's a room in the castle, a library of family journals," I started. "There is no key for this room, though there's a keyhole under the doorknob. To enter the room, three stones need to be pushed in and in the correct order. The stones are on the right side, a third of the way down from the top of the doorway." I still had my eyes closed, picturing the sequence. "Eighteenth stone, ninth, and finally the fifteenth, then with a pull of the sconce the door will swing open."

I opened my eyes to find Edward scribbling down what I said. He looked up at me. Somehow, I knew what he was about to ask.

"If that is not enough, then show him this." I took off the pendant I wore. "I won't tell you the story of how this came into my possession or who gave it to me. He'll recognize it," I said._ I can't believe I am holding it out to him, and I'm not sure if Edward will be able to take it from me. I will have some explaining to do when it repelled him._

When he hand closed around it, I had to hold in my gasp of surprise. He shouldn't have been able to touch it.

"On second thought, show him the pendant first. If he needs more, tell him about the room," I instructed.

"Oookay. Can I ask why?"

I shook my head. "Ask me again sometime, and I might tell you."

Edward raised his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek. "I will. You can count on it."

Edward's eyes didn't leave mine, and his hand didn't drop. It was as if we were staring directly into each other's soul.

Confusion swept through me. So much had happened since I'd met him. There were two facts I couldn't ignore. He broke through the protection spell I recited each night I went to the bar, and he that he could touch the pendant. Both puzzled me, the pendant more so. My parents hadn't been able touch it. I couldn't think about all that now. The bottom line was when Edward showed Grandfather the pendant, it would tell Grandfather not only that I was alive and in Edward's care, but also that there was something about Edward we couldn't ignore. I had no idea what it was Grandfather and I couldn't ignore, but hopefully Grandfather would.

A clearing of a throat had us breaking apart.

"I do have rounds, Edward," Carlisle said.

"And I have another call to make." Edward stood and left again.

Twenty minutes later, I was given a somewhat clean bill of health. Carlisle wanted me to go to the hospital for a blood pressure reading and blood draw, since he couldn't make any solid determinations about my fainting spells. His best guess was that either my blood pressure or blood sugar was responsible.

Carlisle had left me alone with Esme so he could talk with Edward.

I felt comfortable around Esme, like I had Rosalie, but like I had been with Rosalie, I was unsure how to act. Esme seemed like a gentle and kind lady, and maybe someone I could turn to when I needed to complain. Perhaps even a replacement mother.

"Do you have any belongings?" Esme asked just as my thoughts started to stray to my own mother.

"No. What little I had, Jacob's probably ripped and burned to shreds." I shrugged. "It really doesn't matter. The clothes I had were either too small or too big and had been selected by Jacob. I don't want them."

"Well then, you and I will just have to go shopping. For now, we're going to have to get creative," she said, moving to Edward's dresser.

I was about to tell Esme I didn't have much money, but something prevented me—something that was beyond my control and told me not to worry about money, that everything would be taken care of.

"There's someplace I need to take Bella after we stop by the hospital," Edward said.

Esme jumped and turned to face me and Edward. I'd seen him come in the room, but he'd surprised his mother. My hand went to my lips to cover my giggle when Esme marched right up to him and swatted him on the shoulder, much like you would an annoying fly.

The action didn't deter Edward. "Then she's free to go shopping with you. I'll even give _Bella_ my credit card."

My jaw dropped. This was not what I was expecting to happen when I didn't bring up not having money to Esme.

"Why don't you just come with us?" Esme asked.

"I'll think about it," Edward replied, his gaze moving from me to his mother. "And you don't have to get creative. I've already started Christmas shopping and bought a few outfits for Rosalie." He opened a sliding door and brought me two boxes from inside. "This should fit. You and Rose are about the same size. The shoes … hmmm," he looked down a moment, "… might not."

"Thank you." I excused myself and went back into his bathroom.

It was then that I looked down at the boxes in my hand. One was labeled "Vera Wang" and the other "Jimmy Choo." _This is what he got his sister for Christmas?_ I gasped when I opened the "Vera" box—a blue, lace dress. It was beautiful, and the silver and blue shoes were just as wonderful.

Discarding what I had on, I slipped the dress over my head, and it whispered as it settled over my body. It was a perfect fit, and so were the shoes. I walked out to find the bedroom empty.

_Oh boy, this is going to be interesting_.

Following the voices, I soon found myself back in the entryway—the only part of the house I saw before I had fainted.

**A/N: I want to thank ElleCC and hammondgirl for editing this chapter.**


	4. Lobster Bisque

**Chapter 4—Lobster Bisque**

_A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love. _

_Max Muller_

_**Edward's POV**_

I paced my study for a good five minutes before picking up the phone and dialing Malcolm's private number. What I had to tell him wasn't going to be easy, and I was positive that he wouldn't readily believe that I had unknowingly found his granddaughter.

"Hello, Edward, lad. How are you?" Malcolm answered in a heavy Gaelic lilt.

"Burdened," I answered. "You?"

"Can't be better. What do I owe this call to?"

Sitting down on the couch, I exhaled and wished there was a better way to inform him. "I have a bit of news for you, and I don't know how it will be received."

"Lad, out with it."

He sounded impatient, and that wasn't like the Malcolm I knew and respected. Usually, he was easygoing and would chitchat for a long time with me before we got down to business. Not that I wanted to talk about trivial things at the moment.

Running my hand down my face, I simply said, "I've found your granddaughter."

"You … what?" A clatter resounded on the other end of the line. I heard a muttered curse and then heavy breathing.

I sighed and said, "Isabella. I've found her. She's alive."

The other end of the line was silent, and I waited about five minutes before saying anything, giving him a chance to process what I told him.

"Malcolm, are you still there?"

"Aye, I am," he answered in a low, pain-filled voice.

His words sounded more than pained. It seemed that he might be crying, but I couldn't be sure.

After a moment, he asked, "What proof can the pretender offer?"

"I asked her some questions, and she suggested I share them and her answers with you." I proceeded to tell him what I had learned from Bella.

"That doesn't prove anything, Edward." He sounded put off that I had even called him. "All those answers can easily be found out, if the right people are asked. I need something more as evidence."

"Like?"

"If the girl in your care is my granddaughter, she'll know what evidence to provide you."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Send her away."

"Oooookay … I'll call you back in fifteen minutes."

"Make it a video conference," Malcolm instructed before hanging up without another word.

_That went as expected_, I thought, dropping my cell on an end table. Malcolm wasn't willing to believe, and he had every right to be suspicious. Even with his non-acceptance, I felt that Bella was telling me the truth. I wished he'd told me what proof he wanted, though.

~ L.C. ~

Bella gave me a crystal pendant and a description of how to get into a room as proof that that she was Malcolm's granddaughter. My head dropped to my desk as I waited for Malcolm to answer the video conference request.

"Edward, you need a shave," Malcolm said with a chuckle.

My head snapped up, taking in the older gentleman on the screen. Malcolm's brown eyes—very much like Bella's—looked weary, but they were alight with the smile that always graced his face. He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "What proof does the lass offer?"

"She offers two things. How to get into a room and this," I said, holding up the pendant, hoping he could see it.

"Dear God, you can …" Malcolm trailed off. "Bring her to the embassy, Edward. I need to see her. My God! I didn't think she'd ever be found."

"Are you saying this necklace is proof that the young woman in my care is your granddaughter?"

"Aye, lad. I'm saying exactly that."

"All right, as soon as my father is done examining her, we'll come to the embassy."

"Who is your father? And why is he examining Isabella?"

"Carlisle. He's a doctor."

"Is she sick?" Malcolm leaned forward and peered at me through the computer.

"An injured wrist," I said. "She also fainted last night and mentioned something to Carlisle about it when I went in to ask for more proof. Hold on—my father just walked in."

"How much longer are you going to be?" Dad asked.

"A few minutes. Why?"

"Finish the call, and then I'd like to talk to you." He started to walk out of the study, but turned back. "Oh, Bella's going to need something to wear."

I nodded. I figured she would.

"Malcolm," I said, turning my attention back to the monitor and camera. "When would you like us to meet you?"

"I'll be here until Sunday evening, but as soon as possible."

"Okay. See you soon." I ended the call. Standing, I stretched before walking out of the study and back into my bedroom.

Five minutes later, I entered music room—well, more like the entrance hall, it just housed my piano.

"What's on your mind?" I asked Dad.

"Bella needs to go to the hospital for a blood draw."

"I figured as much. But that's not all you want to discuss." I leaned against my piano, crossing my arms and legs.

"You have feelings for Bella," my adoptive father stated plainly.

"I care about her welfare," I said slowly, enunciating each word. _What is he getting at?_

Dad shook his head. "I believe it's more than that, son. The way you acted when you came back in tells me you have strong feelings developing."

I said nothing.

"And then there's the way she reacted when you took her necklace."

_What?_ I thought back to the brief interaction Bella and I had after I took the necklace from her. She hadn't reacted any differently. "How did she react?"

"Surprised, but it was fleeting." He sighed. "I'm proud of you for helping her. Just be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt, especially if Jacob Black wants _her_ back. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants, just like he didn't stop three years ago. Your mother and I lost good friends when he ordered them murdered—though there was nothing to tie him to the hit—and their daughter went missing the same day."

_Holy hell! Did Carlisle know Charlie and Renee before they died?_ "You recognized her, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?" Dad asked, with one eyebrow raised.

"Bella is from Forks."

"She's from Forks!" Esme exclaimed, making her presence known.

I nodded. Let them put two and two together.

"The poor girl," Esme said as Carlisle wrapped an arm around her. "Kidnapped. I can't imagine what she went through. How her parents must be feeling …"

"Her parents were murdered," I informed my parents.

Esme eyes went wide. "Do you know her parents' names?"

"Renee and Charlie Swan," I answered.

I missed whatever my parents' reactions were when a cry sounded. Bella had walked in while we were talking.

_Wow!_ She was beautiful in the dress I gave her, but that paled in comparison to the tears that were, once again, coursing down her face. I rushed to her, pulling her into my arms.

"Forgive us, Bella," I whispered.

_Will I forever be apologizing to her?_

"It's o-okay," she whispered back. "There's no way you could've known when I'd come out."

Except for her little stutter, I marveled at Bella's calm and her logic. "Still, one of us should have been watching for you. You don't need reminding of what you've been through right now."

Bella pulled away slightly, looking up at me. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Maybe some good news would cheer her up.

"Before you and my mom go shopping, your grandfather wants to see you," I whispered into her ear. I wasn't sure if Carlisle and Esme knew the connection between the Swans and the McCulloughs.

"Really?" she asked, stepping away from me. The tears were still present, but a huge smile had appeared.

_**Bella's POV**_

_Grandfather wants to see me. Did that mean he believed Edward?_

I asked, and when Edward nodded, my heart flooded with happiness. I thought I would never see _any_ of my family again. It was a good thing I hadn't believed Jacob when he told me Grandfather had been killed, too. I'm glad I held onto that belief and the hope that I would be found, rescued from my nightmare.

I did the only thing I could do to thank Edward and threw my arms around him, hugging him. I caught him off guard, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around me, hugging me to him.

"Hospital, lunch, and then to see your grandfather," Edward whispered.

~ L.C. ~

Normally I was afraid of needles, but the nurse made me feel at ease. I was surprised when she said we were all done—I hadn't felt a thing. She even escorted me back out to where Edward and Esme were waiting for me, which was a bit of a surprise.

Edward stood when he saw me, but I didn't see Esme. "All done?" he asked.

I nodded, rubbing the blue tape holding a cotton ball to the underside of my elbow. It itched, but I'd been instructed to keep it on for at least a half hour. "Where's your mom?" I asked, looking around for Esme.

"A client called right after you were taken back. She had to go take care of a problem," he said with a shake of his head. "She's going to try to meet us at the mall around two."

"Oh! What does she do?" I asked as Edward put a hand on the small of my back. My face heated as we walked toward the exit.

"She's an interior decorator, and from what I gathered, the client didn't like the color palette."

I shook my head. "I wish I knew about that type of stuff. I do know what I like, so I can understand how someone wouldn't like something someone designed."

"And what is it that you like? Décor wise?" he asked, stepping away from me to open the door.

I thought for a moment. The bedroom I'd woken up in came to mind. I was going to take a shot in the dark. "Your bedroom," I said.

"Esme decorated it," he said. His head whipped around to face me and his eyebrows were raised in surprise. "Did you say _my_ bedroom?"

I nodded, looking over my shoulder at him. He had stopped and had a baffled look on his face.

"It was your bedroom I woke up in, right?" I asked.

"Y-yes," he answered with a shake of his head, as if he was clearing it. "So, lunch?"

"I'd rather go straight to wherever my grandfather is staying."

"You need to eat something." His voice was tender. What he said came out more as a request than a demand.

"Drive thru," I suggested.

"That's hardly a healthy meal," he said, opening the car door for me.

"It's not like I'll be able to eat much anyway. I'm a bit nervous about seeing my grandfather again." I got in and he closed the door, saying nothing. The funny thing was that I knew I had to get something in my stomach to stop the butterflies.

"So, what are you in the mood for?" he asked, slipping into the driver's seat.

"Something light … soup?"

"Hmm," he said, thumping his lips with a finger. "I know just the place."

In no time at all, we were sitting at a table in the Seattle City Center, eating soup from Soup's On.

The chicken noodle soup I ordered was delicious, and not overbearing—just what I needed. I even stole a couple of bites of Edward's lobster bisque, and I had to stifle a giggle when he looked sadly into his bowl and found it empty.

"Go order more," I suggested.

"Why? So you can steal more bites?" he countered with a huge smile planted on his face.

I couldn't stop giggling as I nodded my head. I didn't think he'd seen.

"Well, then, I'll be right back." He pecked my cheek, getting up from the table.

I cupped my cheek, watching him go back up to the register. _All right,_ I thought. _There _is_ definitely something about him. I don't know what it is, but he makes me feel … alive. I'm so confused._

I was holding my head when a bowl was placed in front of me.

"Are you feeling faint?" Edward asked, turning my chair to face him.

"No, a little tired." It was a lie, but I couldn't tell him the truth, not when I didn't even know what was happening between us.

~ L.C. ~

The moment Grandfather saw me, he gathered me up in his arms with a tearful cry.

"Isabella," he said in a heavily accented voice that was thicker than normal. "I thought I would never see you again."

I hugged him closer to me. "I thought the same," I whispered, my throat thick with emotion.

"I owe you a debt of gratitude, Edward. Thank you."

_Edward? Oh, he did say he knew Grandfather._

"Grandfather, we need to talk. The necklace …" I said in perfect Gaelic.

He looked down at me and then over at Edward. "Can you stay?"

"I've cleared my schedule for the day—well, the rest of the week."

Grandfather motioned to the sitting area. "Give me a little time alone with my granddaughter. Then, I would like to speak with you."

"By all means," Edward answered, taking a seat and picking up a newspaper.

**A/N:**

**Some definitions:**

_**Gaelic**_** is an adjective that means "pertaining to the Gaels", including language and culture. As a noun, it may refer to the group of languages spoken by the Gaels, or to any one of the languages individually.**

_**Scottish Gaelic**_** is a Celtic language native to Scotland.**

**Source of definitions: Wikipedia**


	5. Challenging the Impossible

**Chapter 5—Challenging the Impossible**

_Magic lies in challenging what seems impossible._

_Carol Moseley Braun_

**_Bella's POV_**

Grandfather led me away and toward a private office. The clan coat of arms was hung on the door, and it was a comfort to see it again. I touched the wood bearing the emblem a moment as he instructed the guard to let no one inside until further notice. When the door clicked closed, I turned to face him, noticing he had aged greatly since I last saw him.

"How do you know Edward?" I asked.

"What, no 'I've missed you'?"

"I did miss you. You should have gathered that from my hug."

A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him. "That, lass, I gathered. It's still it nice to hear the words."

I grinned at him, taking a seat before a cozy, roaring fire. It was a comfort I missed during my time with Jacob. "So … how do you know him?" I asked again.

"Do you know what he does for a living?" he countered.

"No. I recall Dad talking about him, but can't remember if he ever said what Edward did."

Grandfather rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, for starters, he's a producer."

"Producer?"

"Movies, music, and several television shows."

I felt my mouth drop open. "And that's for starters?"

"Yes. He's also a financial advisor."

"Oookay. But that doesn't tell me how you met."

"Your father suggested I speak with Edward about some investments I wanted to make."

I stared into the fire as a memory hit me.

_"Malcolm, all I'm saying is to speak to Edward before putting money into a risky stock," Dad said as I came into the house after school._

_I stopped listening. _Edward?

_"I'll think about it."_

_"Well, you better think fast. He'll be here in a half hour." Dad turned, seeing me._

_"Angela and I are heading to Port Angeles to see a movie," I said. "We'll grab a bite to eat on the way."_

_"What time will you be home?"_

_"Around ten."_

I wiped my eyes. That was the last time I had seen my dad. "What did Edward tell you?" I asked, switching subjects.

"Lass, are you okay?"

"The day you first met Edward—"

"Christ! I'd forgotten."

"It's all right. What did he tell you?"

"That you were alive and with a doctor," he responded, setting sad on me as he sat across from me. "And that you had fainted."

I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. Sure, Grandfather had heard that. Edward probably told him after showing him the amulet. "I don't think it means anything other than I was tired, scared, and in pain." I held up my wrapped wrist.

"Edward told me but didn't say how you injured it."

"I misunderstood something, ran, and fell." I shrugged. "I'm still as klutzy as ever."

Grandfather chuckled. "I guess so."

We both fell quiet for a long time. The silence was a little uncomfortable, but nice. It gave Grandfather a chance to collect his thoughts and me time to do the same.

"Who was holding you captive?" His voice was thick with emotion, making it a little harder to understand him, but I did.

I swallowed. The question surprised me, and it shouldn't have. I just wasn't expecting him to dive right in like that.

"Jacob Black," I said slowly, afraid of the reaction the name would evoke.

Grandfather fisted his hands. "He was questioned several times," he said through clenched teeth. "Each time he denied having seen _you_, having been involved in _my_ wounds, and having killed _your_ parents."

"And he'll probably continue to deny any and all involvement in my captivity. The only person who would testify against him was shot and most likely died." I wiped angrily at my eyes. I had lost so much.

"Was this person in Jacob's employ?"

"Yes, but he was an ally. He helped me to finally escape."

"And was that how you met Edward? After you escaped?"

"No. I met Edward the night before, on September 12, at Driftwood Bar. He offered to help me. I was scared and ran from him, thinking Jacob was testing me."

Grandfather leaned over and took my hands in his much larger ones. "Isabella, I would have run, too. Edward is, was, a stranger to you."

I swallowed again, pulling my hands away. "That's only part of the reason I ran. Each time I was out with one of Jacob's henchman, I crafted a spell to repel those who would do me harm. Edward was the first outsider to breach it, ever. That should have clued me in that he was different."

Grandfather sat back and scratched his bristly face. "That's … interesting. Go on."

I huffed out a breath. "Last night, I returned to the bar with my ally. I asked one of the bartenders if a purse had been found. After it was returned to me, I opened it and found a business card and cell phone inside."

He raised his hand, stopping my story. "Whose business card?"

"Edward's. I called from the restroom. I got scared again when Edward was not only at the bar, but knew where I was." I paused, gazing at Grandfather. "He was outside the restroom when I exited. He told me he was an idiot, and that he wasn't in the employment of my captor. I cowered in his arms when I heard Jacob shouting. Shots rang out not long after he had me in the safety of the owner's office."

"How did Edward find out?"

"My actions, a note I'd placed in my handbag, and by talking with me before I hung up on him."

I fell silent, lowering my head. There was nothing more I could tell Grandfather about how I met Edward.

"Did Jacob harm you in any way?"

I smiled, recalling Edward's reaction when he asked a similar question. "Physically … no. Emotionally … yes."

Grandfather got up and started pacing. He made a couple of passes before asking, "How emotionally?"

"He told me you were dead. He wouldn't let me sleep on a bed, among other things."

Grandfather threw his fist into the wall, causing dust to fly and frames to rattle. He was seething. "Anything else?" he spat out, facing me again and shaking his hand. I noticed his knuckles were bloody as he took out his handkerchief, wrapping it around them.

I shook my head, staring at the hole in the wall. "I believe I'm still in danger. There are things I know, and because of that, Jacob will be looking for me. He'll do anything to get me back."

"I know. We'll figure out what to do to keep you safe. First, there's the matter of the amulet to analyze."

Leaning back, I closed my eyes. I thought again about what Edward touching it could conceivably mean. "I've been thinking about that since Edward's fingers closed around it. The only thing that comes to my mind is that he and I are soul—"

"Impossible," Grandfather said, sitting back down heavily. "He's much older than you."

My eyes popped open. "If not that, then what other explanation is there? And why should his age matter?"

Grandfather glared at me long and hard. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Well," I hedged.

His eyebrows rose in question.

"I feel there's the potential that something could grow between him and me," I said, fingering the amulet. "He's kissed me twice on the lips and a few times on the cheek."

Grandfather's eyes went wide, and he turned to the door, peering at it as if he could see through it all the way to where Edward sat.

"Yeah, that was my reaction—disbelief. I asked him why, and he couldn't answer. There's just something about him, something that seems to be pulling me to him."

Grandfather scratched his chin. "That settles things in my mind."

"Huh?"

"You're in danger. Getting you out of the country will take some time and a lot of red tape. If we believe what the amulet is telling the both of us, Edward is the only one who can keep you safe, protect you."

I gulped. Yes, I felt safe with Edward and was willing to stay with him, but I wasn't sure if he would open his home to me. My mind wandered to how things would progress between Edward and me if he agreed to protect me. I smiled at the endless possibilities—cuddling on the couch while watching a movie or reading, dining together, laughing, and traveling.

"… and escort Mr. Cullen back," Grandfather said into the receiver.

I broke free of my thoughts. I hadn't seen him move over to the desk or pick up the phone.

"I was going to ask that you give Edward and me some time to talk alone," Grandfather said, coming out from behind the desk. "But I want you to be present when I ask him to protect you. Plus, I need to see how he behaves around you."

**_Edward's POV_**

"Mr. Cullen."

I lowered the Wall Street Journal and peered over it at an older lady with grey hair.

"Yes?" I answered.

"Laird McCullough would like to speak with you," she said, indicating that I should follow her.

_Laird McCullough?_ I thought as I got up to follow. I was shown to a private office flanked by two armed, kilted guards. Gold, royal blue, and silver; they wore the McCullough colors. A crest of a hand holding an arrow over a knight's helmet with the words _"Vi Et Animo"_ was on the oak door. I searched my memory for the translation of the Latin phrase—"by strength and courage."

"Why does the laird want to speak with me?" I asked as the guards crossed the spears they were holding, blocking our entrance.

"I don't know." She glared at the young boys. "Lads, let us by."

"We were told not to let anyone pass," one answered.

"Let us pass," she said again. There was a strange layering to her voice, like another was saying the same thing in a lower voice.

It was puzzling, and I was surprised when the guards uncrossed the spears, allowing us to enter the office. Malcolm was leaning against the desk.

"Tea will be right in, my laird." My escort curtsied before leaving.

"Laird?" I raised an eyebrow in Malcolm's direction.

"Titles are superficial things, but yes." He motioned for me to take a seat.

I glanced around the small office, looking for Bella. She hadn't come out—at least to my knowledge—but then I was eye deep in stock market figures. My eyes landed on her. She was curled up in a high-backed chair next to the fireplace. My heart soared at the smile she gave me, and I knew I would do anything to see that smile again.

I was just sitting on the leather couch when the door opened and a young serving girl came in with a tray. She set it on a side table and offered me the first cup of tea she'd poured. I motioned her to serve Bella first.

"Tea, my lady," she said in a small, soft voice.

"Thank you. It's Bridget, right?" Bella asked, reaching out and taking the offered cup and saucer.

"Aye, my lady."

Bella glanced my way and blushed when she noticed I was staring at her.

_Beautiful._

The clearing of a throat had me turning my attention back to Malcolm. He was shaking his head and chuckling. He said something in Gaelic to the maid that I wasn't able to translate. I knew a few phrases, but I didn't recognize a single word of what he was saying.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Edward. Isabella is in danger. Jacob might be looking for her."

My head fell. That wasn't something I wanted to consider, but I knew it was a possibility. The thought of Bella being hunted by Jacob didn't sit well with me. Something inside me demanded that I protect her from him, from anyone who would harm her. "Will she be going to Scotland, then?" I asked, lifting my head to take in his expression.

He shook his head. "It's not safe for her to travel, even through private means." He gave me a meaningful look.

I knew what he was implying and asking at the same time. Will I protect Bella? "You don't even have to ask," I found myself saying. "Jacob won't connect me to her. If he does, I won't let him lay a finger on her."

"You-you can't … mean that," Bella said.

I swung my head in her direction. She was staring at me in wide-eyed puzzlement.

"What?"

"'I won't let him lay a finger on her' is what you said," Malcolm stated.

_Hell! Why do I keep saying things that I wouldn't under normal circumstances?_

I ran a hand through my hair.

_The strange thing is I meant it last night and still do._

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I asked, my gaze still on Bella.

She looked from me to her grandfather, seemingly having a silent conversation with him. When she returned her eyes to me, her lip was caught between her teeth.

I was suddenly jealous of her teeth again. And again, my jealousy was irrational, but I so wanted it to be my teeth nibbling on her lip.

"It's not," she said, drawing my eyes to hers again. "I just had to ask."

"Fair enough." I gave her a crooked smile, and she returned it with a breathtaking one. It was hard, but I managed to turn my attention back to Malcolm. "Will she need additional security?"

"No. Doing so will draw attention to her," he answered. "And she shouldn't hide, but at the same time, she shouldn't go out alone."

I nodded. That much was obvious. Our pending shopping trip came to mind. I'd have to call and see if Alice could meet us; Esme had texted me saying she wouldn't be able to make it. Her client wasn't budging and wanted a complete color change before they would approve the makeover. I had sent a message back saying that I understood and asked her to prepare the room next to mine, providing a list of things I wanted in the room, if she had the time. I hadn't known why I made the request, but subconsciously I knew Bella would be returning with me.

Malcolm moved around the desk. "I don't know why I did, but while I was waiting for you to arrive, I made a few calls. This"—he held up a diamond credit card—"has been authorized for you both to use. I have a feeling Isabella is going to need clothes and other necessities. Edward, I would like you to sign for all purchases. If need be, have any online purchases sent here or to your office."

"Of course," I said, surprised he'd made arrangements before knowing I'd agree to protect his granddaughter.

"Now, Isabella, this"—he held up a card trimmed in silver and gold—"will get you and two guests in to see an exclusive designer."

"He's in town," Bella said in reverence.

"Yes, and he has been made aware of certain things. I'll call him again with further details."

"It would be wise," Bella said.

The way they were talking was giving me a headache as I tried to figure out what they were saying. "Who's this designer?"

Bella turned and looked at me with her lip between her teeth once again. "Um …"

"I'll find out sooner or later," I pointed out, picking up my cup. The tea was probably cold, but it would do to wet my dry throat.

"Ian McGregor," Malcolm stated.

I sputtered, spraying out the sip I had just taken. "Ian McGregor!" Alice had been trying for years to get an invitation to view his collections, and Bella was being given one. I got up and walked out of the office, holding up my cell phone when Malcolm asked where I was going.

"Hey, Edward," Alice answered.

"Do you want to go shopping?"

"You want to go shopping? Is something wrong with you?"

"No. I can't really explain."

"Try."

"Do you remember the young woman you returned a purse to last night?"

"Yes."

"Well, she's going to be staying with me for a while and needs to purchase a whole lot of things. She could use some help."

"Why is she staying with you?"

"It's … complicated. And I don't have time to explain. Please, don't ask me again."

"Fine. I'll go. Can you pick me up?"

"That won't be possible. We're downtown. Call for a taxi, and have it billed to my account. Meet us at Ian McGregor's shop."

"Yeah, right! How are you going to get in?"

"Just meet us there in an hour."

"Fine," she huffed. "See you then."

I walked back into the office. Bella and Malcolm had their heads bent close together.

"You're right, lass. There's definitely something about him."

Are they talking about me?

I cleared my throat. "Sorry," I said when they turned to me. "I had to make a call and wanted to catch my sister."

Bella smiled. "Not a problem. Are you ready to go?"

I bobbed my head up and down. "My sister, Alice, is going to meet up with us."

"Oh!" Confusion marred Bella's beautiful face, wrinkling her forehead.

"Esme is unable to get away. I didn't tell Alice anything other than where to meet us." I resisted the urge to go to her and wipe the confusion off her face.

Bella nodded as she and Malcolm stood. After a giving her grandfather a brief hug, she and I were off.

**A/N: Thanks to jennej and Jcat5507 for editing this chapter.**

**The McCullough Coat of Arms is posted on my blog. The link is on my profile and is labeled Last Chance.**


	6. The Beauty of Fashion

**Chapter 6—The Beauty of Fashion**

_I think there is beauty in everything. What 'normal' people would perceive as ugly, I can usually see something of beauty in it._

_Alexander McQueen_

_**Edward's POV**_

Bella was bouncing in her seat the whole drive to where the high-end shops were on Sixth Street. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. I couldn't be sure if she was thrilled about being out and about, about the prospect of shopping, or about seeing Ian McGregor. And I was once again being visited by the green-eyed monster. I internally scoffed at myself. _Why am I begrudging Ian? I haven't even met him and certainly don't know much about the man._ Despite that, I didn't think my day would've been as wonderful had I gone to work—the luxury of being the boss man. I had called in and had my secretary reschedule all my meetings for next week; my clients could wait.

Alice was waiting for us outside one of the shops lining the street, her face buried in a magazine.

"Alice," I said before putting my hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," she replied, looking up at me and tossing the magazine into the trash bin next to her. "Are you going to tell me how you plan on getting in?"

I shook my head. "Allow me to introduce Bella. Bella, this is my sister, Alice."

"A pleasure," Bella said, extending her hand.

Alice glanced at me and then at Bella's hand. "Oh, none of that," she said, throwing her arms around Bella.

Bella stiffened and whimpered a little at the suddenness of the hug. That was the second time I'd noticed her reacting to someone touching her.

"Alice, back off!" I barked.

_Did Jacob do something to her? Or was she like this before he kidnapped her?_

I made a mental note to ask when Bella and I were alone again.

Alice jumped and moved away. "What crawled up your ass, Edward?"

I glared at her. _Maybe this wasn't the best idea,_ I thought.

Bella stepped in front of me. "Your brother is just doing … what I asked him to do. I don't like to be surprised, and your hug caught me off guard."

"Oh." Alice look at me and then back at Bella. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Bella said. "Just give me a little warning next time and … I'll let you come in with us." With a flourish, she whipped out the invitation.

"Deal!" Alice shrieked. "You have got to tell me how you scored that."

"Later," I interrupted. I was amazed at how well Bella handled Alice, but I would still be asking about her reaction at being touched.

The three of us approached the door and I reached out, hitting the buzzer.

"Sorry, no admittance without an appointment or invitation," said a disembodied female voice.

"We do have an invitation," Alice retorted.

"Name?"

"Cul—" I started, but Bella cut me off.

"McCullough."

"You're not on my list," the female said in a bored voice.

"Tell Ian that _the McCullough_ is at his door," Bella said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

About three minutes later, the door was open by an imposing gentleman dressed in a fine Italian suit. His eyes roamed Bella from head to toe before a smile spread across his lined but tanned face.

"Ah, Isabella," he greeted in a heavy Scottish lilt much like Malcolm's. "Come in." He moved aside, allowing the three of us to enter and closed the door. "Lass, come 'ere and give your cousin a hug."

"Ian McGregor is her _cousin_?" Alice whispered in question.

My jaw dropped. _Her cousin! I had no idea._

Ian lifted Bella up into his embrace, swinging her around. When her beautiful laugh reached my ears, I smiled.

"I missed you," Ian said, setting Bella back on her feet. "Now, who did you bring with you?"

"This is Edward and his sister, Alice."

"Pleasure," Ian said, bowing over Alice's hand and kissing her knuckles.

He offered me his hand, which I took hold of in a firm shake. "Edward."

"If you would follow me, I'll show you my latest collection."

_**Bella's POV**_

Edward's hand slipped into mine as he, Alice, and I followed Ian through the showroom and back to his workroom. Warmth began to spread through me from his simple touch.

_What is it about Edward? _I thought, still pondering why I was being drawn to him. _Holding his hand feels so natural, just like waking up in his arms had earlier._

"What? What is it?" I said when Ian turned and looked at me.

He shook his head. "Where were you?" he asked in Gaelic, eyeing how my hand was clasped in Edward's.

"What do you mean?" I responded, freeing my hand from Edward's.

"Just now." He chuckled as I felt my face heat.

"Show me what you've been working on," I said in English, hands on my hips.

Ian held up his hands. "Fine, lass, don't tell me."

I glanced toward Edward and Alice. The both had confused expressions on their faces.

The work area was abuzz with seamstresses pushing fabric through sewing machines, hanging up outfits in all stages of completion, and pulling bolts of shimmery silk off of shelves. Ian shouted something and all activity ceased. Six seamstresses were soon surrounding Alice and me.

I screamed as one of them touched me. A long-forgotten memory surfaced.

_Ang dropped me off, and I yawned as I approached the front door. I was pleased to see that Dad had remembered to leave it unlocked. _

_It was dark inside. I briefly wondered why there were no lights on. As I moved to find the light switch, I stumbled over something and fell._

_My hands came in contact with something wet and sticky that smelled like copper—_blood_. I screamed as someone hauled me off the floor._

"What in the hell is wrong with you?" Edward shouted at Ian, drawing me back to the present. He pushed his way through the throng, opening his arms to me.

Without a moment's hesitation, I stepped right into Edward's embrace. As soon as his arms were around me, I felt safe and protected, like nothing and no one could harm me as long as I stayed there.

"You of all people should know Bella needs some warning, being her cousin and all." Edward's tone was fierce.

I chanced a look at Ian. His eyebrows were pinched together.

"I don't know what you're implying," Ian replied. "But that reaction was _not_ like the Isabella I know. Granted it has been years, but that was not like her."

I closed my eyes. Ian was right. It wasn't like the _old_ me, but the _new _me was afraid—afraid of being taken again. Outside of family, Edward was the only person I was _willing_ to trust—and that was only because he could touch the pendant and hadn't done anything to make me question his intentions. The pendant had only steered me wrong once: When I asked it if I could trust Jacob, it glowed green indicating that I could.

My lip trembled as I responded. "I-I've changed."

Ian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Malcolm warned me that your captivity might produce some reaction," he said, switching to Gaelic again. Reopening his eyes, he looked me up and down with an appraising eye. "And aye, lass, you've changed. And don't take this the wrong way, but you've grown up."

I blushed. I had filled out more since …

Well, that was a thought I didn't want to complete.

"This is going to make things a little more difficult," Ian stated in English. "But we'll manage. Do you trust me enough to do the measuring?"

I averted my eyes, thinking over what he asked. Ian was family, so I didn't understand why was I hesitant. With a sigh, I looked back at him and stepped out of Edward's embrace. "Of _course_ I trust you."

Ian smiled and held out his hand for the tape measure one of the ladies was. He made quick work on taking my measurements.

"Thirty-two, twenty-eight, thirty-two," he said.

Once Alice was done getting measured, Ian ushered the three of us into a small sitting room, a room reserved for _special _clients. I had been in this very room countless times and never took the time to look around, but for some reason, today I did. The room was sparsely decorated. One wall had cubby holes stuffed full with bolts of fabric, while the others had hand-sketched drawings pinned up. Curious, I walked over, examining the drawings near the window. One sketch had my name on it, and I snatched it from the wall. It was a simple yet elegant dress with a deep v-back, cinched waist, and full flowing skirt with an extended train.

"See something you like?" Ian asked from behind me.

I turned, handing him the sketch with an eyebrow raised.

"Hmm. I didn't know this was pinned up out here. It's just a drawing," he said in Gaelic.

"Looks like a wedding dress to me, designed _specifically_ for me," I replied back in Gaelic.

"And what if it is?"

I crossed my arms, a little upset. I didn't mind that he had drawn a beautiful wedding dress with me in mind. What I did mind was that he had it on display where anyone could see it. "Planning my wedding?"

Ian laughed. "Nay, lass. It's nothing more than a rough idea. I would never create anything of that nature without your blessing."

I looked over Ian's shoulder and saw that both Alice and Edward were staring at us. Their noses were wrinkled, and there were creases between their eyebrows.

"Sorry," I said. "We were just talking about this drawing, not you two." I motioned to the sketch Ian still held.

"We gathered you weren't talking about us," Alice stated. "You just sound mad about the drawing."

I bit my lip. It shouldn't surprise me that she picked up on my discomfort.

~~ L.C. ~~

Ian had shown Alice and me several styles of dresses and pantsuits. I loved his designs, but nothing screamed me. He wasn't surprised and had a selection of more down to earth outfits —jeans, black and brown slacks, and tops of various colors and styles—set aside for me.

Alice really didn't find anything to her liking either, but she had acquired an invitation to come back. She also obtained Ian's promise to create something she would absolutely love.

By the time Edward and I got back to his house, I was beat. After we left Ian's, Alice had dragged me from store to store, not that I minded. We must have hit every one in the mall.

"Head to my bathroom," Edward said, handing me the bags from Bath and Body Works and Nordstrom. "Take a relaxing bath. I'll bring in everything and put them in yourroom."

"_My_ room," I said in awe. A smile crept over my face at the thought of having my own room again. I dropped the bags and threw my arms around Edward. "Thank you."

His arms came around me. "You're welcome, Bella."

**A/N: Thanks to my two betas JCat and Jennej for their help in editing this chapter.**

**So, thoughts about Ian McGregor being Bella's cousin.**


	7. Relaxation is the Best Medicine

**Chapter 7—Relaxation is the Best Medicine**

_There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them._

_Sylvia Plath_

**_Bella's POV_**

After being shown which room would be mine, I walked through Edward's bedroom and into his bathroom. I'd been in this room twice but hadn't taken the time to look around—I was too frightened. It was huge. My small childhood bedroom could fit inside at least two times. The bathroom was mostly black and white marble with silver accents.

I set my bags next to the sink nearest the bathtub. From one bag, I took out all my toiletries. I read the label on the shampoo bottle—Strawberry. The bottle fell from my hand. My hands flew to my mouth as it hit the floor and bounced. I hadn't mentioned my preference in shampoo scent, and I certainly didn't pick the product out.

_How did Alice or Edward know? Was it a guess on their part? Or had they just picked out something they thought I would like?_ I had too many questions with no answers until I asked for them.

I went back to the bags to pull out a terry cloth robe and, as I did so, another bottle tumbled out. A little shriek of surprise escaped from me as the bottle rolled into the sink. With a shaking hand, I reached out and picked up the bottle—strawberry conditioner.

However Alice or Edward knew didn't matter; I silently thanked them. The scent of strawberries always relaxed me and reminded me of my mom giving me a bath when I was a child. I wiped away the wayward tear that had fallen at the thought of my mother. I missed her and Dad so much.

I swiped at my eyes again as I moved to the enormous bathtub, gathering my hair up into a messy bun. After turning the faucets on, I dropped a couple fragrant bath oil beads into the slowly filling tub.

The hot water lapped up over me as I settled in. Knots I didn't even know I had melted away. Sighing and closing my eyes, I immersed myself to the shoulders in the fragrant water, just relaxing—not allowing myself to think much on the cold or lukewarm showers I'd taken the past three years.

I took my time in washing, scrubbing every inch of my body and cleansing my hair twice. When I finally got out, almost an hour later, I felt like a new person.

Slipping into my robe, I cautiously made my way from Edward's room to the room he had indicated—right next to his. My breath caught in my chest moments after I walked into the room. Like Edward's, it was beautifully decorated. Earth tones of varying shades of green and brown welcomed and beckoned me farther into the peaceful escape.

The bed called to me. It was decorated with long lengths of wispy cream material that extended from each bedpost to the center of the bed where they were tied to a ring. The material was wrapped around each post, too.

I felt a bit faint. It was as if I had stepped from reality into a dream—_my_ dream. I had no idea how it was possible, but I had dreamed of this room before.

I moved slowly around the room, running my hand along the dresser and touching the candleholders fitted with white candles. Gazing into the mirror, I found I was smiling and it was actually reaching my eyes. Through the mirrors reflection, I saw a clear vase filled with sea glass of varying shades of blues, reds, and greens. They were all colors of protection in one way or another. I knew blue was a safeguard used during sleep, green was for safety and healing, but how red worked I wasn't sure_._

I shifted my gaze as I turned around. In one corner sat a chair, and piled in front and on top of it were all the shopping bags. I didn't want to think about putting everything away and just grabbed the Victoria's Secret bag. After dumping it on the burnt orange and cream bedspread, I selected a pair of white boy shorts and a blue pajama set—pants and a cami. The pants were a little big even when I tightened the drawstring, but they didn't fall down. Luckily, the cami fit and was long enough to cover what the pants didn't—the top of the boy shorts.

After removing the tags from the rest of the pajamas and undergarments, I folded and placed everything in a dresser drawer. My gaze drifted to the rest of the bags. I sighed—_might as well put everything away._

"I thought I'd better check on you," Edward said from the doorway sometime later, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin and shriek.

I had gotten used to the quiet, and his sudden voice frightened me. With my hand on my chest, I turned to face him.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning against the wall. "I didn't mean to scare you. You've been in here for quite some time, and I was beginning to worry."

I stared at him. _He was worried about me?_ I was used to being by myself when at home, not that my last residence was much of a _home_. Not knowing what to say, I motioned to the bags that were still on the floor and to the hangers on the bed, hoping that was enough of an explanation.

_**Edward's POV**_

I couldn't believe the number of bags there were. Apparently, I'd lost count after the many trips I'd made to the car. I'd been reluctant to leave Bella alone with Alice, but they were getting along and both had shooed me away. To say I'd been grateful when I got back from one trip to the car would be an understatement. In my absence, they had traversed Victoria's Secret. That would've been some experience for me. The last girl I dated had wanted me to go into a similar store with her, and I flat out refused—we'd broken up a short time later.

When Alice had pulled me to the side in one of the stores, I'd been mildly surprised by our conversation, not after what Esme had asked earlier when she and Carlisle met Bella.

"_Edward, why didn't you tell anyone that you were dating again?"_

"_What are you trying to say?" I whispered, blatantly ignoring the question._

"_Don't take this the wrong way. Bella is sweet, but I can't help thinking she's hiding something."_

_I stared at my baby sister, playing dumb. I knew she was hiding a few things from Alice. On the ride from the Embassy to Ian's shop, Bella was adamant about no one else being told about her captivity, and nothing I said changed her mind._

"_Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about."_

"_I don't. Please enlighten me."_

"_Well, I haven't been around her that long, but the way she stiffened when I hugged her is a start. Then, she screamed when one of the seamstresses touched her. What was that all about? Ian's her cousin and had no clue she was like that."_

Great! Alice decides now is the time to be observant._ "And you think I know what she's hiding?" I was outraged._

"_You've been dating her. You can't tell me you haven't sensed anything odd about her."_

The only odd thing I've noticed is my pull to be near Bella_, I thought._ I wasn't going to tell Alice that_. "No. I haven't. I'm still getting to know her."_

_Alice said nothing, but her tight-lipped stare spoke volumes._

Shaking myself from that earlier chat, I looked up and noticed the time. Bella and I had gotten back over two hours ago. She should be out of the bath by now. I had fully expected her to come searching for me, but she hadn't. I prayed nothing had happened to her.

Making my way to her room, I found that the door was open. I had no clue what propriety called for in this situation. She was essentially a guest in my home, so I should respect her privacy, but then there was the open door—an invitation to come in. I decided it was safe to go part of the way into the room.

"I thought I'd better check on you," I said.

Bella gave a little shriek as she turned. Her right hand was on her chest.

My heart stuttered and nearly stopped when I took Bella in. She was radiant in the blue pajamas. My hands itched to draw her to me and kiss the living—

I shook my head. My thoughts were heading in a dangerous direction.

She stared at me and slowly motioned to the bags. The pile had shrunken some, but there were still too many to count littering the floor.

"Want some help?"

Bella continued to gaze questioningly at me with lowered eyelids. Her mouth was slightly opened, too. It was like she was stupefied by my offer. It took her a few seconds before she found her voice.

"You—you want to help me?" She pointed at me and then to herself. There was a hint of bewildered shock in her voice.

Her question slapped me in the face. _Had Jacob never offered to help her with such a simple task?_ "Don't you want help?" I countered, putting the ball in her court.

Her expression slowly began to change to one of … appreciation?

"Ummmm … sure."

"I'll take care of all the hanging."

She pointed to the bed. "Everything there can be hung."

I flipped a switch on the wall intercom and soft piano music filled her room. "I hope you don't mind. I find music helps make the job easier and go faster."

She said nothing and went back to pulling items out of bags, folding and placing select tops and bottoms into the dresser. She handed me things from time to time.

The silence was getting to me. Not turning from my task, I said, "I was thinking that once we're done here, we could wander up to the home theater and watch a movie."

Nothing.

Not a single word.

"Only if you want to," I added. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

Still nothing.

"I'll even let you pick the movie. I have a wide selection."

"_No Strings Attached_," she said in a small voice.

"I think I have the movie." I hung the last top and turned toward her, watching in horror as her face paled and she fell to the floor. "Bella!" I shouted, diving across the short distance between us and catching her head right before it hit the floor.

Remembering Ms. Cope's instruction from last night, I checked that Bella had a pulse and was breathing. I blew out a relieved breath. Her pulse was weak and slow, but present, and she was breathing.

Without Ms. Cope being at the house, I was afraid to leave Bella's side, but Carlisle had asked me to notify him if she fainted again. I felt my pockets, hoping that I had my cell with me. Luck was on my side. I had it.

"Hello?" Carlisle answered after the third or fourth ring.

"Bella's fainted again," I said.

"Where are you?"

"At home. In the bedroom next to mine."

"What's the code to the gate? I don't have the clicker you gave me."

"My parents' wedding anniversary."

"We'll be there in five minutes."

"You're close? Who's with you?"

"Esme's with me. We're at a dinner party a few doors down from your place, the Greenberg's."

"That was tonight. I forgot." I groaned. Dan and Martha were great neighbors and even better clients. For me to miss their party … I shook my head. There was nothing I could do about it now.

"Don't worry. Esme told them that you had a matter to take care of and it couldn't wait," Carlisle explained.

I ended the called a short time later. Bella hadn't moved, much like she hadn't the previous night. I didn't like that she was lying on the floor and moving her wasn't an option. _Oh how I wished Ms. Cope hadn't taken the evening off; she'd let me know if it was safe to move her._ I pulled two pillows from the bed and slipped them under her feet before covering her with the blanket. Not sure what else I could do, I stood and started pacing the room while tugging at my hair.

A short while later, a moan resounded from where she lay on the floor and had me back on my knees. "Easy," I said in a low voice.

Bella blinked up at me in confusion. It was like she didn't recognize me but at the same time did.

"You fainted," I said, leaning farther over her.

She blinked again and reaching a hand up, she touched my face. A gasp escaped her, and she withdrew her hand slightly. Slowly, recognition dawned in her deep, chocolate brown eyes. Those endless eyes drew me closer to her.

And that was how Carlisle and Esme found Bella and me. I was hovering over her, just inches away from kissing her.

"Edward!" Carlisle cried. "Has she stopped breathing?"

I moved away from Bella so fast that you would've thought I had been struck by lightning.

"Well, that certainly answers the question," Esme said, chuckling.

I glared at Esme. I was in no way mad at her, but my actions were puzzling the hell out of me. Standing, I swapped places with Carlisle.

Esme moved her head toward the door.

I shook my head. There was no way I was leaving. Something was wrong with Bella, and I was hell bent on finding out what was causing her fainting spells. "I'm not leaving."

Esme pointed toward the door. "Out!"

Her tone usually made me start and then obey, but I stood my ground. "I will not leave. I've been charged with protecting Bella, and protect her I will." My voice was firm and steady, leaving no room for question or argument.

Of course Esme was not going to be swayed and argued anyway. "She's not in any danger," she said, pointing to the door again.

"There is no way to know that for sure." I crossed my arms. I wasn't going anywhere.

"He can stay," Bella said. Her voice was small voice and sounded a bit scared.

I didn't know what to think about Bella wanting me to stay. The fact that Esme was trying to eject me from the room left my mind. Sitting on the bed, I watched as Carlisle examined Bella and listened as he asked her a few questions.

"Did you sense anything strange before you collapsed?" Carlisle asked.

That question struck me as odd.

"What makes you ask that?" I inquired.

"I'm not sure," Bella answered at the same time. "Maybe."

"Can you describe what you felt?" Carlisle asked as he helped her sit up.

Bella closed her eyes, sighing. "It felt like I was in a kaleidoscope. The room was a swirl, but not spinning, more like looking through a prism. It was disorienting. The temperature rose and the next thing I know, I'm looking up at Edward."

"Edward, did you feel a temperature change?" Esme asked, looking at me.

I was puzzled by what Bella said. "No. We were putting away clothes, I turned around and she was starting to collapse."

"Edward, call Malcolm," Carlisle instructed, turning to look at me. "Tell him what happened, and that he needs to get here as soon as he can."

I sat there and stared wide-eyed at my adoptive father for a long moment before complying with his request. _How did he know Malcolm? _I didn't take the time to ask. Pulling out my cell, I automatically dialed Malcolm's personal line, disregarding the late hour.

"Hello?" Malcolm answered groggily.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but Bella's fainted again."

"She what?" he asked, sounding wide awake now.

"She fainted. Carlisle is here and has examined her, but you're needed."

"I was afraid of this," he muttered. "I'll be at there in a half hour. Give her a cup of cocoa. It should help."

Before I could ask how cocoa would help, I heard dead silence on the other end and knew Malcolm had hung up.

"He's on his way." I stood and started to walk out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Esme asked, halting my progress.

"To the kitchen to make hot chocolate," I answered, stuffing my phone back into my pocket.

Fortunately, no one followed me. There was something I was missing, and it was clear to me that Carlisle and Esme were hiding whatever they knew from me.

_They must have recognized Bella._

I had to trust that they would tell me if I needed to know.

**A/N: First, I want to say this about the "strawberry" shampoo. I have a reason, and have hinted some in this chapter.**

**Second, don't hurt me for the "almost" kiss. True, both have feelings developing for the other, but I want it to be special and **_**magical**_** when they finally come together. It will be worth the wait.**

**Finally, thanks to JCat and Jennej for editing this chapter. I don't know what I would do without them. They both pointed out small things that I missed when I went through it, they even found a slight plot-hole that would have caused a few questions.**

**Be safe this week, and watch for trick-or-treaters.**

**Oh, pictures have been posted on my Facebook group, Stories by Swervin35. The links is on my profile.**


	8. Chocolate Works

**Chapter 8—Chocolate Works**

_All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt._

_Charles M. Schulz_

_**Edward's POV**_

With the help of Ms. Cope's recipe box, I was able to make her hot cocoa with ease. I did change it up a little, adding a mixture of crushed peppermint and cinnamon to Bella's cup. I took a sip and there was a hint of flavor. My hope was that it would help Bella to sleep and heal as well as protect her and do whatever Malcolm felt the cocoa would do. I made three more, with cinnamon only, before making my way back.

Bella was sitting up in bed. She looked sickly and very pale, and she shivered even though the blanket was drawn up to her chin. It concerned me.

"Here, this should warm you." I offered her the mug I doctored as Esme took the tray from me.

"Thanks."

My eyes wandered around the room, noting the additions for the first time—the vase of colored stones sat next to the bed, and a vase of feverfew, white heather, and sprigs of juniper were on the table in the sitting area. The accents Esme added while we'd shopped should help to protect Bella. I didn't want any harm to come to her while we both slept.

When I turned, Bella was making a face, peering into the mug she held. I couldn't tell if she liked the cocoa or not.

"Don't you like it?" I asked.

"It has a familiar taste," she answered. "I'm trying to figure out what's making it so good. I taste cinnamon, but there's something else." She took another sip, letting the cocoa sit on her tongue a moment before swallowing. "I've got it!" She snapped her fingers. "Peppermint."

Her eyes were alight with—I couldn't really name what it was I saw. It was like the somberness that had been present since I met her vanished, being replaced with sunshine.

"My mom used to put candy canes in cocoa, saying, 'A little Christmas will warm the heart.' I usually fell asleep shortly after I finished the cocoa but woke feeling refreshed, as if whatever had been troubling me never happened."

I smiled.

Bella fell silent, staring at nothing but continuing to sip the chocolate drink.

Esme turned to me, wordlessly asking if I knew. I shook my head in reply; I'd been reluctant to ask Bella anything about her parents.

The buzzer sounded. "That should be your grandfather." I moved to the intercom to confirm. "I'll be right back."

Esme followed me. "If you didn't know, then why did you put peppermint in hers?"

"To help her sleep and heal. The fainting spells can't be healthy."

"No, they can't, but is it wise to use your magical powers to ensure she sleeps?"

"I'm not using magic. I'm using my knowledge of plants, herbs, and spices—nothing more."

"And the stones and flowers you had me put in the room?"

"Are nothing more than colorful stones and flowers—a decorative feature," I said with a wave of my hand.

"I hope you know what you are doing."

We stared at each other.

_Did I know what I was doing?_

_Yes, I did._

There was no doubt in my mind that I had to protect Bella. I glanced at my watch; we had a minute or two more before Malcolm would be up the driveway. "How does Carlisle know Malcolm?"

"We've been friends with him for years. I think Charlie and Renee Swan introduced us."

Hmm, that was interesting. "It's hard to believe I never met Bella before now," I said, trying to bait Esme.

She didn't bite.

The lights of Malcolm's car coming to a stop outside had me moving to the front door. His face was unreadable as he got out and climbed the few front steps.

"How is Isabella?" Malcolm asked.

It was Esme that answered. "It's hard to tell. She's resting, and I wouldn't be surprised if she falls asleep soon."

Malcolm nodded. "I didn't want to say anything to Bella, when she was at the embassy, but she needs it." He wiped his hand down his face. "Any ideas on why she fainted?"

"None that makes sense," I answered. "She mentioned that it was like she was part of a kaleidoscope and that the temperature in the room went up."

A _hmmm _resounded from Malcolm. "I'm not sure what to make of that. It's a bit strange. I'd liked to speak with her alone, if she's awake."

I led him to Bella's room. He went in, and a few minutes later, Carlisle joined Esme and me in the kitchen with the tray and one empty mug.

_**Bella's POV**_

It was a struggle to keep my eyes open. The peppermint was slowly working its magic, and a loud yawn escaped me.

"You should get some sleep," Carlisle said in a low, almost hypnotic, voice.

I couldn't close my eyes or relax until the kaleidoscope of emotions settled. With Grandfather coming, I could speak freely with him about what overcame me and caused me to collapse. Fear kept me from telling Edward and his adoptive parents. I was afraid they would flee from me if they knew that I wasn't like them, that I had magical abilities.

Grandfather entered the bedroom, and after a brief word with Carlisle, sent him from the room.

"Isabella," he greeted.

"Grandfather." I yawned again.

His gaze drifted around the room. "It seems someone is trying to protect you."

"What do you mean?"

"The flowers," he said, motioning to the small sitting area inside a bay window.

I hadn't noticed them earlier. They were indeed for protection, but who would want to keep me safe?

_Edward?_

_Ms. Cope?_

"And the vase of stones," he added.

"I'm sure both are for decoration. But since you mention the vase, do you know what the red stones do?"

"Yes." His eyes landed on me, giving a caring but stern look. "Red provides protection from fears and anxieties."

"That's interesting. Three colors of protection in one vase—if they're meant to protect me and aren't just décor."

Grandfather shrugged and then gave me another stern look that made me squirm.

"You didn't tell me that you were suffering fainting spells earlier. Why?"

Shame washed over me, and I turned away from his gaze. "Would it have made a difference if I had?" I asked.

"Mayhap it would have. How long ago did they start?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking hold of my left hand.

"Three weeks ago. They started the night I first went to Driftwood Bar," I admitted, still not looking at him.

His left hand came up caressing my cheek and making me look at him. It reminded me of when I went running to him as a child in tears. I hadn't wanted to move away from him and Grandmother. He had gathered me up in his lap and wiped away my tears, explaining that I had to go with my parents, but that I would get to visit and he and Grandmother would come see me. A sigh left me. I was so tired.

"Did you feel or sense anything?"

"Not until tonight."

"Describe what you were doing before you collapsed. Leave no detail out."

"Edward and I were putting away the clothes I'd bought. I was standing near the dresser, and he was hanging things in the closet. He was saying something about watching a movie when we finished, I heard him, but like we were in a tunnel—he was at one end and I the other. I grew very warm, and then everything around me blurred. When I told Carlisle, I compared the sensation to looking through a kaleidoscope."

"Hmmm. The first time you fainted, did you experience the same sensation?"

"Not exactly. I did get warm and blacked out the next moment, but no prism effect."

Grandfather took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He only did that when something was troubling him.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Did you faint the night you met Edward?"

I gasped_._

_How could Grandfather deduce that from the little I told him?_

"Yes. You don't think Edward was at the bar on the nights I fainted, do you?"

"What day was it when you first went to the bar?"

My eyes felt heavy with the need to sleep, and it took me, and it took me a few minutes to recall. "I think it was a Tuesday." I covered a yawn.

"You need your rest. And I have a question or two for Edward."

There was something that Grandfather was hiding from me. "What are you thinking?"

He shook his head. "I'd rather not speculate until I have further information." He stood and then bent over, kissing my cheek. "Get some sleep, lass. I'll stop by again tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully I'll know something more about what might be causing your fainting spells."

"You know," I said, settling further into the pillows and under the blanket, "it could just be my magic growing."

"It could be. Rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

_**Edward's POV**_

I paced the kitchen, pulling at my hair. My world had been turned upside down. Since Emmett's birthday, I'd been acting like a lovesick puppy, and I'd never acted that way. Emmett even had a theory—there was something seriously wrong with me that a woman couldn't turn my head for more than a few months. Well, my strong attraction toward Bella blew his theory out of the water. It had been two days, and I couldn't help but worry.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I asked, turning to face my adoptive parents.

"You have strong feelings for her," Esme said with a smile.

I opened my mouth to deny it, as I had when Carlisle had said the same, but immediately closed it.

_Could they both be right? Could Bella be whittling her way into my heart?_

"For crying out loud, I just met her." I threw up my hands, and a moment later, I braced them on the counter to steady myself as realization dawned on me.

_I was falling in love with Bella._

My gaze fell to the floor.

Malcolm's chuckle reached me before his words did. "Lad, you think that really matters in the grand scheme of things?"

My head snapped up, and Malcolm was standing on the other side of the counter between Carlisle and Esme.

"It should," I replied lamely.

"You know that Esme and I fell in love with each other in a short time," Carlisle said. "It's not impossible. You can't get caught up in what the world deems proper."

Carlisle had hit the heart of why I didn't want to admit aloud how I was starting to feel—society had its rules. "And her age?"

"Carlisle is ten years old than me," Esme reminded me.

I remained silent but not conceding.

It wasn't long before Malcolm spoke again. "I'm hoping, lad, you'll be able to answer a question for me."

"I'll try."

"How detailed was your schedule three weeks ago?"

_My schedule? _"Why?"

"I need to know where you were three weeks ago when my granddaughter first entered Driftwood."

I dragged my phone out of my pocket, pulling up my calendar. "Are you looking at a particular day?"

"Tuesday."

My eyes went wide. "I was at the bar from seven o'clock on," I said, remembering what Jasper had told me—_she arrives before the rush and disappears into the crowd after two hours._ The rush started at six.

_How many times had we been at the bar at the same time before we actually met?_

"Why do you want to know?" Esme asked.

"Just gathering information. I'm not sure if it's important or not."

_Bella's fainting spells_, Malcolm's voice said inside my head.

I shook my head, looking at Malcolm. _Had he spoken the last part?_

"Keep me informed on her health," Malcolm said. "I'll come by tomorrow afternoon."

Mom thanked Malcolm for coming over as she walked him to the entrance hall. I followed and bid him and my parents farewell.

I decided to check on Bella before turning in. She was sound asleep, snoring softly. I smiled and left the room, turning on the intercom; I did the same to the one in my room, connecting our rooms. When I finally settled into bed and drifted to sleep, my dreams where filled with the brown-eyed beauty in the next room.

**A/N: Thanks to JCat and Jennej for editing this chapter. I don't know what I would do without them.**


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